


Curse of Strahd: A Campaign Story

by DarkSeraphim



Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Blood Drinking, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Major Plotline Spoilers, Mystery, Original Campaign, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 63,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSeraphim/pseuds/DarkSeraphim
Summary: Irene Aretruess is a Cleric of the Goddess Mystra. Her best friend is a unique Warforged named Kcaj. The two of them join a company temporarily to guard caravans as freelance bodyguards. When the procession decides to cut through a largely untraveled forest, the pair and a few new friends are swallowed by a thick mist overnight. When it clears, their procession is gone and they soon realize that they are in another land entirely. Unsure of what to do or where to go, they set out to find answers and find themselves being pulled into events that have catastrophic consequences for many, including themselves.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 5





	1. Out of the Fog

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This story is going to be based on the Strahd campaign I'm taking part in right now! Hopefully, things will be interesting! There will be some twists and turns, as my boyfriend (and the GM) has been adding his own ideas inspired by reddit posts and his own devious mind to surprise even our veteran players. Enjoy!

Irene stood on the hill, watching the caravans go by. The carts were traveling rather slowly as expected for hauling a shipment of ore and mining equipment. Among the carts and around them were armored individuals, mostly dwarves. Stamped on their sturdy armor were black sigils of a hammer and anvil, matching the ones inked onto the sides of the carts. Amongst them was a tall figure in heavy armor, of a much different design than the others. After a moment of watching, she headed for the procession, using her quarterstaff as a walking stick. The sun was bright and hanging high in the sky, glinting off of her scale mail. It was just after midday, from what she could tell. Plenty of time to make it to the forest they were heading for.

As she passed the armored men she nodded in greeting, making her way towards what looked like a walking suit of strange armor. “Kcaj! The way ahead looks clear and safe enough. We’ll be in the forest in an hour or two.” she said as she fell into step alongside the figure. She smiled up at her friend. “So far it’s been quite the lovely morning.”

“Indeed so, Lady Irene,” Kcaj replied. His voice came out oddly through his fencer’s mask, raspy and metallic. There was a small creaking sound when he turned his head towards her. “I am pleased to hear that you have been enjoying yourself. I will be glad when we are able to make camp for the eve. As I am sure you can hear, I am in need of oiling, and my sword could use some maintenance.” He patted the sheathed katana at his side.

Irene chuckled. “You’re not creaking that badly, my friend. Besides, we’ll be there before too long. We should reach War Haven in a few days too. I’m sure once we’re there, you’ll be able to give your armor a brand new coat of paint and shine.”

“That is my hope, Lady Irene,” The Warforged nodded his head. “Any amount of creaking is cause for concern. Should we come into combat, I would hate to have my movements slowed due to improper maintenance. I am unsure of the need for paint, but it will be good if there is someone to aid me once we reach our target.”

“I’m sure there will be.” Irene smiled and patted her friend on the arm. “In the meantime, would you mind going over a few verbs with me? I think I’m still struggling with a few of them.”

“I would be honored to, my Lady. It is pleasing that you pick up my language so quickly.”

“I have a good teacher.” Irene smiled wider. “Now, as for those verbs…”

Irene felt privileged to have met the unique Warforged. It was only a few years previous that she had heard rumors of a type of Warforged never seen before. She had investigated the rumors and had come upon the ancient Kcaj, newly awoken after being offline for thousands of years, a remnant of the ancient empire of Giants. It had taken some time to understand one another, Kcaj did not speak a word of Common before meeting Irene. But the construct had picked up the language easily enough. Irene had learned that he had been created in the time of the ancient empire, left behind and forgotten in the great war against the Chromatic dragons.

Kcaj had gone silent at hearing the fall of the empire that had created him. His emotions, if he had any, were impossible to determine through the mask that was his face. Irene had offered her sympathies, which Kcaj had accepted though insisted it was unnecessary. After some time to think, the Warforged had announced that he would journey with Irene if she would allow it. He wanted to know the new world he had awoken in, realizing that he would likely make missteps and requested that Irene aid him in his understanding. She had agreed without hesitation. The pair had journeyed together since, and in thanks for her aid, Irene had been taught the ancient Giant speech. Kcaj did his best to learn and understand his surroundings, though often Irene had to reassure people that he was merely a unique construct. The Warforged was also an excellent fighter, and though Irene was no slouch she was much more adept with magic. 

The pair continued on with their temporary employers. The Black Hammer Trading Company was well known in the lands as the primary supplier for miners, laborers, architects, and stonemasons. They had taken up a contract to rebuild the city of War Haven, fallen in civil war some years ago. It was a rather enormous contract, thus the need to hire freelance security. The pay was good, and both had been interested in the history of the old city. The background checks had been rigorous, the company did not get as far as it had by hiring random adventurers off the streets. It had taken some explanation from Irene to get Kcaj approved, her standing as a Cleric of Mystra had helped.

Several hours later and the pair were making camp in the spot designated to them. They had their watch shift scheduled and they settled down to rest and wait. Kcaj was leaning against a tree seeing to his sword’s care. Irene was setting up making dinner for herself when two others approached their small camp.

“‘Ello there. Both of ya are some of the new hires?” The dwarf smiled pleasantly. Like many of the other dwarves, he wore plate mail stamped with the insignia of the company. He carried a great ax on his back that was almost as big as he was. His bright red hair and neatly plaited beard were decorated with beads of bright silver. “Pleased to meet you! I’m Kildrik Stonecleaver. This is my friend,” he gestured to the man beside him. He stood at about Irene’s five feet and seven inches, dressed in leather traveling clothes and carrying a rapier. A violin case hung on a strap at his side. His face was youthful despite the white hair, and his grey eyes looked around the camp curiously. He chuckled when Kildrik elbowed him. “Introduce yourself, lad! Still acting like a teenager, bloody half-elves.” but the words were said with a warm smile.

The other man laughed. “At least I’m not an old man.” he swept a hand through his hair. “This face still has a few decades yet before I start showing wrinkles.” He grinned brightly and bowed to Irene. “Lev Valoppikov. And you are?”

“Irene Aretruess. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Irene smiled and shook both of their hands, then motioned to the silent Kcaj. “This is my friend and companion, Kcaj. He doesn’t speak much, so don’t be offended if he doesn’t answer you.”

“No worries, lass.” Kildrik waved a hand. “I’ve been around a few Warforges. I know how they can be. Still, tis a pleasure to meet you both. May we sit with you? We’ve brought food as an offering.”

Irene nodded. “Please, take a seat! We would be glad to have you. Have you been with the company long?”

Lev shrugged and sat, bringing out his violin. “A few years now. They pay quite well and there’s no end of work and travel. We certainly are never bored.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Kildrik nodded. He began to set up his cooking supplies with Irene’s. “If you both are keen on it, I’d recommend signing on again once we reach War Haven. You two seem like you’ve been traveling awhile. It’s good work with good pay.”

“We might, we haven’t decided yet,” Irene admitted. “I’d like to stay in War Haven for a bit. The history of the place fascinates me and I’d like to study it.”

“A fair pursuit. Are you a scholar?”

Irene nodded. “Primarily of the arcane, but I’ve always had a liking for history.” She chuckled and pulled out a medallion from beneath her armor. It hung from a silver chain around her neck, with a disk of the same metal stamped with the image of a blue-white eight-pointed star. “As a Cleric of Mystra, it sort of comes with the territory.” 

“Ah!” Kildrik smiled widely. “Goddess of the Weave. Ay, I know of her. Not much, but from what I do know, she’s quite a lovely one.” he held up his own medallion, gold and emblazoned with a hammer. “Moradin is my god. I know, it’s practically a requirement from us dwarves to worship the God of the Forge.” he shrugged. “I find serving as one of his Paladins to be a fine path for myself.”

Irene smiled and nodded. “As long as you feel that you’re on the right path, to Hell what anyone else thinks.” she turned to Lev as he tuned his instrument. “And you? If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

The half-elf chuckled. “I don’t mind. But I found that religion is not quite my thing. I prefer music and its form of magic.” he strummed the violin a few times, then began to play a proper song. It was a rather jaunty tune, and several people nearby had stopped to appreciate it. Kildrik clapped along, and soon it turned into a small crowd doing the same. Lev seemed to soak up the attention, his fingers smoothly running along the strings, ending the song with a rather climactic finish. He stood and bowed to his adoring crowd, catching a few coins that were thrown his way. He then turned and bowed to Kildrik and Irene, who clapped enthusiastically.

“That was wonderful! You’re quite the skilled bard.” Irene said, smiling.

Kildrik chuckled. “This was nothing, lass. Catch him in a tavern or bar, and then you’ll see something really special.”

A small creak drew their attention to Kcaj, who had sat cleaning his sword, silent the entire time. He turned his fencer’s mask to Lev. “You’re playing is admirable, bard. I am not fit to judge such performances, but if your crowd seems pleased, then you must have done very well. My congratulations.”

“Oh dear...um…” Irene bit her lip and glanced at Lev. The young man simply smiled.

“Thank you, Kcaj. I take compliments wherever I find them. And criticisms, if there are any. An artist should strive always to improve their work.”

Kcaj nodded and made a small sound of appreciation. “Agreed. Progress can only come from bettering oneself. Even in defeat can a warrior learn to grow.”

“As long as he doesn’t die.” Kildrik chuckled. “But aye, I find myself agreeing with you, Kcaj. If you don’t mind my asking, where were you made? I’ve never seen your like before.”

“And I doubt you ever will again. The people that made me are long since dead, and I have spent too long in an inactive state. It is thanks to Lady Irene here that I even walk in this world again. I have much to learn about this new land still. But I trust in her to help guide me.”

Kildrik’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh...well, I’m sorry to hear about your creators. But it is quite fine that you’ve made a new friend.”

“Right, I can’t imagine it’s been easy; going to sleep for gods knows how long, then waking up to see that everything is different?” Lev shook his head. “I don’t think I’d be able to stay sane.”

“I refused to self-terminate or allow myself to fall into such disrepair that I would violate my core functions. Thus, I adapt. I believe Lady Irene has said that flesh beings are much the same, no matter the race.”

“And she would be right.” Kildrik nodded. “Ah, but enough about all that depressing talk. Let’s eat and turn in. We have a mid-shift tonight.”

Irene perked up. “So do we, actually. Would you like to camp with us?”

Lev shrugged. “If you’re offering, sure. Why not?”

Food was served once it was ready, the three eating while Kcaj continued his maintenance. Kildrik offered to buff his armor while Irene and Lev made small talk. Occasionally, other employees of the company would come over to chat with Lev and Kildrik before leaving for their camps. A stern-looking dwarven woman in armor briefly sat with them, introducing herself as the leader of their procession and speaking with them briefly about what was expected of them. 

“I know you’ve already had this talk with a supervisor. But I want to make sure since you’re temps, that you grasp that we run a tight ship here. I expect everyone to participate in watches, and I hate tardiness.”

“Don’t be too hard on them, Sonya. Lev and I were trying to convince them to stay on. You might scare them off.” Kildrik grinned at her.

The woman known as Sonya Blackstone raised an eyebrow. “If they don’t like it, they are more than welcome to leave. I want everyone vigilant in these woods, Kildrik.”

“Of course, ma’am, we will, of course, be professional, have no worries about that. You will find our services satisfying.” Irene assured. “We take this job quite seriously.”

Kcaj looked at the woman. “I was unaware that these woods had a grim reputation. Is it wise to stay here?”

Sonya waved a hand. “It’s nothing more than rumors, and cutting through these woods will buy us good time. I like to cut corners when it’s productive for the company. Just the usual missing people in these woods, probably nothing more than bandits. But that’s why I want everyone vigilant. These supplies need to get to War Haven with a quickness, understand?”

Everyone agreed, and Sonya left after bidding them goodnight. Soon after, the three began to set up their bedrolls as Kcaj took a more comfortable position against a tree to stand sentinel. There were some talking and a few jokes, though soon silence had settled over the camps. The first watch went on duty, somehow missing the fog that had begun to rise.


	2. An Uneasy Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party begins their adventure in Barovia, heading towards the only trace of life they can see. But what will they find there? What awaits them in this land?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short one, but I'm pacing myself lol. The first three or so chapters consist of our very first session and I'm so happy I took notes. Our game is streamed on Twitch by one of our players, and I rewatched episodes to take notes before they vanished. Hope you guys are having fun!

“Lady Irene! Lady Irene, you must awaken!”

Irene snorted as she started awake, blinking her eyes and groaning. “Mm, ‘m awake. Was goin’ on?” she yawned and managed to sit up. “Kcaj, what’s wrong?” She looked around for her friend and suddenly felt much more awake as she realized that she couldn’t see him...or anyone. A thick fog had risen around the camp and Irene wasn’t even able to make out her own hands in front of her face. “Kcaj!”

“I am well, Lady Irene. We cannot see one another, but I assure you that I am here. From the sound of your voice, we are less than five feet from one another.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I wish I knew that myself, lass.” The sound of Kildrik’s voice came from somewhere to Irene’s left. “Blood and stone, where did this fog come from?”

“And why did no one sound an alarm?” Lev’s voice came from the right. “Someone should have, or at the very least woken us for our watch. Hello! Is anyone out there? Hello!” 

Almost as if his words had been the trigger, the fog began to dissipate rapidly. It moved eerily as if it were being directed. It faded and the four looked around at the empty forest. There was no trace of a trail, wagons, or campsites. They were utterly alone.

“Blood and stone...where is everybody?” Kildrik began to search the ground for any trace of their caravans. “It’s like everyone’s vanished. What in blazes is going on? Where did they all go?”

Kcaj tilted his head. “Or, perhaps, it was we who were taken, master Kildrik. I saw no sign of foul play or kidnapping. The fog had simply risen while we slept.”

Lev turned toward him. “You saw it happen? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I do not need to sleep as you do, however, I was powered down. But even during that time at least some of my senses are active enough to passively observe. The fog had risen a short time ago. I did not think much of it until it thickened to the point of obscuring my vision. I immediately called an alarm at that point. I assure you, I did not passively allow a threat to occur, master Lev.”

“We know you didn’t, Kcaj,” Irene assured him, stepping between the two. “You did all that you could, it’s hardly your fault it came so suddenly. We just need to figure out what happened. Kildrik, is there any trace of anyone?”

“No, lass.” Kildrik’s expression was troubled as he rejoined the group. “None at all. I’m starting to think that Kcaj is right, maybe it was us who were taken. There’s no sign anyone camped here at all. No wheel tracks, not even a speck of ash. Not even in our site.” he kicked at the cold ground where their fire had been. Or hadn’t. There wasn’t even a blackened mark. “On top of that, nothing here is remotely familiar. These are not the same woods we went to sleep in.”

Lev shivered as he took a look around. “He’s right. There’s something not right with this place. We should get out of here.”

“We have no idea where we are. We do not have the first clue as to where to seek safety.” Kcaj stated. “It would be foolish to run off without any indication as to where to go.”

Irene looked around at the dark woods. A thin layer of mist clung to everything and the trees were thick, the branches blocking off the sky. She noted with alarm that there was no sound other than their voices. No insects, no birds, nothing. “Kcaj, we may not have a choice. I agree with Lev, there is something wrong with this place. I think it’s in our best interest to leave quickly.” she kept her voice low, clutching her quarterstaff tightly as a chill ran up her spine. “We should just grab our things and-” she froze, taking a quick look around their campsite. “...where are our things?”

“What!?” Lev winced as his voice echoed through the eerily silent woods, but darted around almost frantically. “My bag! Where did it go!?”

“Blood and stone, mine’s gone too!”

“It seems that our things have been left behind,” Kcaj said calmly. “Does everyone at least have a weapon?” the Warforged held up his sword. “You three are also casters, yes? Do you have your foci?” 

Irene paled, almost fumbling her quarterstaff as she reached for her neck. She pulled out the chain and sighed in relief when she saw her holy symbol. “I’m good. I suppose it’s a good thing I sleep in my armor. Thank the gods.”

“Aye, I’m with you there, lass.” Kildrik let out a loud sigh of relief, patting his holy symbol and placing it back in its pouch, then hefted his ax. “I’m good here. Lev?”

Lev grumbled but seemed to accept that his pack was lost, holding up his rapier and his violin. “I’m fine. If we’re attacked I can defend myself. But all of our food is gone!”

Kildrik patted his back. “We can always hunt, my friend. We are not completely helpless, we’ve gone through some tight points like this before. We at least are alive.”

“Small mercies, I suppose,” Irene said. “Well...I guess we just pick a direction, then? I’m not very good with navigation, I’m afraid.”

“Luckily, I’m a fair hand at it, normally,” Kildrik muttered as he looked around. “Unfortunately, I recognize nothing here. I think we should just pick a direction and head that way.”

“Fine with me, as long as we get out of here,” Lev muttered. “This place makes my skin crawl.”

With nothing to gather, the newly formed party chose a direction and began to walk. The mist was everywhere, clinging to every tree and rock. They heard nothing but the sounds of their footsteps as they walked, though later they would all swear they felt something was watching them. They kept their eyes open and their hands on their weapons, unable to shake the feeling of eyes being on them. Irene shivered despite her warm cloak. Her skin was crawling as though live bugs were wiggling their way beneath her skin. After a couple of hours of walking, they reached the edge of the forest, Lev practically running out into the wide, open space.

“Gods above, thank you! I swear, I was suffocating in that wood!” Lev gasped, taking in the cool air of the morning. “Did anyone else feel boxed in?”

“Aye, I have to say so.” Kildrik shuddered and sat down on the damp ground. “It is good to be out of there.”

“Indeed, it was an ominous place. Though I must say,” Kcaj put forth, his head turned to the sky. “That it is a bit ominous still to have such an overcast sky. I do not like the rain.”

“We’ll find shelter soon, I’m sure.” Irene patted his arm as she looked around. Nothing seemed familiar to her, as she expected. The land seemed...dreary. There was a heavy feeling in the air, not quite suffocating but simply there, like a weight about one’s shoulders and something still felt as if it were crawling just beneath her skin. Looking back at the woods, she had to resist the urge to start running away. It was much darker than it had seemed before, the mist swirling lazily about the trees. When before she felt watched, now she was sure that if they decided to go back in, they would not be coming out. She tore her gaze away and looked around for any signs of a settlement. She perked up and smiled as she spotted something in the distance, an hour or so away by her reckoning. She pointed towards it. “Look there! It’s a building! Maybe someone there can help us!”

Kcaj turned in the direction she pointed. “Indeed, perhaps. There even seems to be a nearby road leading towards it. We have been quite lucky, my friends. We should make haste and seek assistance from the domicile.”

Kildrik hoisted himself to his feet. “I’m all for that! Can’t be much worse than standing around doing nothing! Let’s head off then.”

Lev looked around at the landscape as they walked. “Can this place look anymore depressing? Gods, I see plants but I would swear that this place never saw any sunlight. It all just looks so...sad.”

“I was thinking the same thing myself.” Irene agreed. “It’s almost hopeless.” she shivered. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“It could simply be in our minds. I may not fully understand such notions, but to say that a land makes one feel such things is a strange thing indeed.” Kcaj mused. 

“Some things do that to you,” Kildrik shrugged. “That’s how it is for us fleshy ones. Emotions are a rough thing to begin with. It can go haywire without you ever truly understanding why. And just when you think you have it all down just fine, wham!” he rapped his hands together sharply. “It hits ya with something new and just throws your whole life out of whack!”

Kcaj made a small noise. “Hm. I am quite satisfied to have been created without such things, I think. I doubt I will understand it fully.”

Irene smiled. “It’s different for us all. That’s part of what makes life unique, I think. We may never completely understand constructs. We are so different after all. All we can do is try to understand. I think, it’s when we stop trying that true conflicts start.” she shrugged. “Naive of me, I know. It’s not as though every problem can be solved by sitting down and talking about it. But understanding one another would be a good first step in many cases.”

Kildrik smiled and nodded. “Aye lass, I agree with ya. Though, it would be nice if all problems could be solved that way.”

“If only…” Lev muttered to himself. He shivered and drew his cloak tighter around himself.

The party kept up the chatter as they walked, Irene and Kildrik doing the most of it. Kcaj interjected every so often, though Lev stayed oddly silent. Kildrik would try to bring him into the conversation, though the half-elf would only give a few words at a time. He seemed jumpy, almost a bit paranoid at times. Irene frowned and walked a bit closer to him as Kildrik and Kcaj started to go into a polite debate about polishes and weapon sharpening.

“Lev, are you alright?” Irene asked. “I’m sorry to pry, you just seem...I’m not sure. Do you feel alright?”

Lev grumbled a bit, pulling his cloak tighter. “...this place doesn’t feel right. It...I know that you said it feels depressing and you’re right, but there’s just...I don’t know. There’s a wrongness here. I don’t know if I just feel it because I’m half-elf, or whatever. It’s...there’s a darkness, just under the surface. Can’t you feel it? I mean, you are a cleric, aren’t you? Don’t you feel like something’s off?”

Irene looked away. “Honestly...I think I do. I mean, I’ve been feeling off ever since I got here.” she toyed with her holy symbol. “It’s like...like I’ve got this unsettling feeling in my soul. Like something’s watching us still, like whatever it is has eyes everywhere. I keep feeling this sort of deep dread like something terrible is going to happen.”

“And almost like you suddenly have a huge target on your back?”

Irene turned to him with wide eyes. “Yes, yes exactly. Something knows we’re here. Maybe a god of some kind or another force. I...Lev, something is telling me that we weren’t brought here by accident.”

Lev sighed and nodded. “I was afraid you’d say that. I feel the exact same way. And also as if we’re...I don’t know, waiting for something to happen? Like...like we’re waiting for a...a click? Something like that?” he ran a hand through his white hair. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like you get it already.”

Irene nodded. “I do.” she sighed. “I suppose we just keep an eye out for...whatever, I suppose. At least we’re together.”

“Small mercies, right?” Lev managed a small and nudged her. Irene chuckled and nudged back and they fell into an easier step. 

After a little over an hour’s walk, the party found its way toward the building Irene had pointed out earlier. Said building was a large mansion. The grounds were expansive, with a few smaller buildings to the side that looked like smaller homes, more than likely for servants or storage of some kind. It all looked clean and tidy, the grounds looking well maintained. Yet there was not a soul in sight. 

“Is it abandoned?” Kildrik frowned as they approached the main house. “It looks like it’s been taken care of, doesn’t it? But where is everyone? This place is enormous, surely the owners have the staff to maintain the upkeep.”

“Curiouser and curiouser…” Irene muttered.

Lev sighed. “Why don’t we just go up, knock, and see if anyone answers? If not, we know it’s abandoned and grab some supplies.”

Kcaj made a noise of disapproval. “Theft is most inappropriate, master Lev. We do not know what has befallen these people, what drove them from their home. It would be dishonorable to steal from those who may have given us shelter and aid.”

“Look around, would you?” Lev made a wide sweep with his arm. “I’m not saying we should steal all their valuables, though clearly, they wouldn’t miss much. I’m just saying we should grab some food. These people look like they can afford to be missing some rations. Do you want us to starve? We need food.”

“And,” Kildrik interjected. “We could always leave a note explaining the situation and apologizing for it. It’s not like we’ll be robbing them blind. Now, normally I’d protest like you, but in this case, we are in rather dire need.”

Kcaj took a moment, then nodded. “That is agreeable. We leave a note of apology and an offer to repay what we took if the opportunity arises. We take only what is necessary.”

Irene smiled. “That sounds sensible. Hopefully, whoever lives here will not be-”

A pair of shrieks cut her off, and the front doors of the manor flew open. A pair of children raced out the front, screaming in terror. Upon reaching the party, they screeched to a stop, staring up at the frozen group in abject terror. The girl looked to be about twelve or thirteen, with curly dark hair and a finely made dress. Her ribbons were tangled and her eyes were red and wide. The boy beside her looked to be about half her age and dressed in a child’s suit. His mop of dark hair was equally unruly. The children stared at the four, staring wide-eyed.

Kcaj stepped forward, his hand on his sword. “Children! What hunts you? Direct me to it and I shall protect you from it!” In response, the boy burst into terrified blubbers, clinging to his sister who stared at the Warforged in frozen horror.

“Oh dear, not again…” Irene murmured, moving in front of Kcaj and holding up her hands. This was not her first time doing this. As a Warforged, Kcaj was scary enough. But he was a rather unique model and prone to frightening adults as it was. “It’s alright, children, he will not hurt you,” she spoke in a low voice, trying to calm them. “He is a friend. Please, tell us what is wrong?”

“Aye, children, what has you so scared? Are you in trouble? We can help you.” Kildrik said, stepping forward. 

“A…A…” the girl swallowed, trying to speak. She was trying very hard not to stare at Kcaj, instead focusing on the boy. “Are-Are you heroes?”

Lev fell to one knee, his voice soft and kind. “You bet we are. Is there a monster in there?” he pointed to the manor. “If there is, we can kill it, no problem for heroes like us.”

The girl whimpered. “Please, help Walter!”

“Who’s Walter?” Irene asked gently. 

“Our little brother. He’s just a baby! Momma and poppa have a monster in the basement and it’s loose! It could eat him! We tried to find him but we got scared!” tears fell from the girl’s eyes. “Please save him! He’s just a baby!”

“We will make sure Walter is safe, promise,” Lev swore. “In the meantime, you two go and hide, okay?”

The girl sniffled. “You’ll...you’ll save Walter?”

“You bet we will, lassie. Now, go on and hide and we’ll have your brother safe and sound in no time.” Kildrik nodded. 

The pair looked at each other, then ran for one of the smaller houses, rushing inside to hide. Kildrik hefted his ax into his hands. “Sounds like we have a beast to kill. Damned fools their parents are, it sounds.”

Kcaj unsheathed his katana. “It matters not, we have a rescue mission to complete. We can discuss the fates of the parents after Walter is saved and the beast is destroyed.” he headed for the entrance, the others drawing their weapons and following him inside the dark manor.


	3. The Death House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party begins their search of the creepy house for the baby Walter. What, and who, will they find?

The four entered the lavish mansion into a good-sized entry hall. The entry hall was beautiful, decorated with what looked like a woodland theme. The walls were decorated with images of animals frolicking in the woods, the artwork continuing onto the three doors. A quick glance revealed two to hold shoes and cloaks, with the third leading deeper into the house. Sculptures of flowers hung from the walls to act as sconces. Each one held a candle, lit, and providing plenty of light for the party. The floors were swept, and shiny, not a speck of dust seemed to linger anywhere. Not one person was in sight, and not a sound could be heard, save for the front door slowly closing behind them.

Irene frowned and looked around, confused. “Should...should we call out?” she poked a door with her quarterstaff. The one leading in was flung wide open as if people had been fleeing.

Kildrik grumbled. “It’s too quiet for a house with a supposed monster on the loose. What the blazes is going on here? I vote we keep silent until we find someone.”

Kcaj tilted his head. “Should we not announce ourselves? If there is anyone here, then perhaps they would make themselves known and ask for our help.”

“Maybe. But if there are any crazy murderers here, we’d be putting targets on our backs.” Lev whispered. “We need to be as silent as possible. Can you do that?”

“It will be...difficult. I was not made for stealth. But that is why I should walk in front. If indeed, as you say, there are malevolent entities in this household, then I shall be the first line of defense. I am far better suited to the task.” Without waiting for a response, Kcaj headed for the open door and walked through it. He walked slowly and carefully, though his armor still made noise despite his attempts.

“He’s certainly something,” Kildrik muttered. “Where did you find that one, lassie?”

Irene smiled. “In a ruin, luckily for me. He’s a fine companion to have. Come on then.” She nodded to the door and followed Kcaj, the others trailing behind her. The door led into a grand hallway lined with shields that hung from the walls. They were white, painted with a crest representing a windmill in bright yellow. “Odd symbol to have as a crest…” she murmured. “Family of millers, perhaps?”

“Who knows?” Kildrik replied, keeping his voice low. “This place is making my hair stand on end, I swear. I’ll be happy when we fix whatever is going on, grab some food, and leave. If those kids have been messing with us, I’m going to knock their skulls together.”

“I don’t think that they have.” Irene shook her head. “Their terror was too real. Did you see the looks in their eyes?”

Lev tightened his grip on his rapier. “They weren’t faking that fear. Something happened. Let’s find Walter, kill whatever beast is here, and get those kids somewhere safe. There definitely isn’t something right h-”

The trio stopped, almost running into a still Kcaj as they entered a larger room. The same woodland theme patterned the walls and decor. A huge, spiral staircase was in the middle, snaking upwards. Gold-plated metal in the shape of ivy weaved around the handrail and balusters. Paintings depicting more of the woodland scenery hung on the walls, bordered in gold, and what looked to be an odd sort of silver. The decor was decorated lavishly with more gold-plated ivy, flowers, and other plants. Interwoven were vines made of the strange silver metal.

Lev cringed at the gaudy display. “Wow, overkill. I hate these kinds of rich folks. The aesthetic I can understand, but less is more. Seriously. And what’s with the weird metal?” He poked one of the frames. “Kildrik, this some kind of silver?”

“I’m no blacksmith, Lev. I couldn’t tell ye. Moradin isn’t just a god of the Forge, you know. I’m more of a stoneworker in my spare time. But I can tell you that it isn’t pure silver. Useless for any spell that requires it.” Kildrik shook his head. “Can’t use it for blessing or anything the like. Don’t know what it’s mixed with, though.”

Irene scrunched her nose a bit. “Let’s just keep looking. Kcaj? Did you see something?” She stood beside the silent Warforged, who held up a hand.

“Silent, my friends. Do you hear anything?”

Irene frowned and exchanged a look with the others, then shrugged and tried to focus on her hearing. It took a few moments, but she began to hear whispers. They seemed to be coming from every direction, and no matter how hard she focused, she couldn’t quite make out what was being said. “What on earth…” She kept her voice soft and looked to the others. “Any idea where it’s coming from?”

Lev shook his head. “None. I can’t hear what they’re saying, either.” He whispered, looking around with narrowed eyes. “Let’s get moving. I don’t like being still.”

Kcaj nodded. “Agreed, master Lev. Let us continue forward.”

The four cautiously began to make their way throughout the first floor. By some miracle, they managed to find both the kitchen and connected pantry. Lev and Irene immediately set to gathering food, though they were unable to find much. Most of the food had rotted as if it had been left unattended for ages. Save for a loaf of old bread and some preserved meat. The discovery put them all in a worse mood than the creepy atmosphere. Every other room was empty, but here and there the whispers would increase in volume ever so slightly. Though they could never quite make out what was being said. The same theme ran throughout the entire manor, or at least the first floor, with more gold and silvery plants decorating everything. Lev muttered darkly to himself, eyeing the more gaudy pieces with disdain as he grabbed some bags to be repurposed as traveling packs. Irene said nothing, determined to ignore it all and focus on their task. They still saw no trace of Walter or any other person. She was quite certain that the whispers were supernatural in origin. Spirits of some kind were high on her list of possibilities. 

The four opened a larger door to reveal a very large ballroom. One wall was made entirely of elaborate stained glass windows, though no sun illuminated the vibrant colors. In one corner of the room was a harpsichord, and in the opposite corner stood a mirror taller than Kcaj, surrounded by little tables and plenty of chairs for a respectable audience. As they entered, the whispers seemed to grow a bit louder, though no more clearer than before. 

Kildrik grumbled. “Well, I think that’s most of the first floor. So much for the kitchen. I say we check upstairs next.”

Kcaj nodded. “Agreed. Though I admit I do not know what there possibly could be in this desolate place.”

“A cult, for all we know.” Lev shrugged. “Maybe they all died in a ritual or something and those whispers are their ghosts.”

“A most ghastly thought, master Lev. But you may have a point. Too many things are not adding up, as they say. Perhaps we should leave this place. At this point, I am unsure if Walter even exists. If he does, he is likely no longer amongst the living.”

Irene turned to him. “We can’t assume that, Kcaj. There is a chance Walter is alive, despite what may be happening. As long as there is, I won’t leave. I at least want to see proof that he’s…” she cut herself off with a shiver, then paused and peered at the harpsichord. Something shifted beneath it. She held up a hand and silently motioned to it, slowly beginning to creep closer. The others carefully spread out around the harpsichord, hands-on weapons. Irene carefully crept up to it and slowly knelt, one hand wrapped around her holy symbol. There was a yelp and the shape beneath darted back, making Irene fall backward from shock.

“Lady Irene!” Kcaj rushed forward, drawing his sword. “Stand back! I will-”

“Kcaj no!” Irene scrambled to her feet and held up her hands. “It’s not what you think!”

“Blood and stone, what is it then?” Kildrik asked his hands on his ax. 

Irene knelt down again and took out a piece of dried meat, holding it out towards the shape. “Come on out, it’s okay. You’re safe. Come on out now. Here you go, come on.”

“Huh...well, I’ll be damned…” Lev muttered, his eyes wide as a large dog slowly crept out from beneath the harpsichord. The animal looked utterly terrified, shaking, and whimpering even as it sniffed Irene’s hand. It gently nibbled the jerky, slowly taking it from her hand to eat it.

“There we go.” Irene smiled and gave the dog a soft pat on the head, moving slowly as it winced and shook. “It’s okay. You’re safe now, you big sweetie. Oh, you’re a good doggie, aren’t you?” She giggled as the dog gave her a grin and licked her face, his tail beginning to wag. She gave his ears a good scratch. “Oh yes, you’re a good doggie!” 

Kildrik burst into laughter. The poor dog jumped, though Irene was able to calm it with more scratches. “Well! So there’s at least one other living thing here after all! Belongs to the owners, ya think?”

Kcaj tilted his head, sheathing his sword. “Perhaps. Lady Irene, does it have a collar? Perhaps it’s owners information will be there.”

“Let me check.” Irene giggled from another lick and checked the dog’s neck. Around it was a thick leather collar of fairly good quality. Attached was a single steel plate with ‘Lancelot’ engraved on it. The collar hung a bit around its neck, and upon closer inspection, Irene could see that though it wasn’t starving, it had gone a while without food. “Poor Lancelot. You must be a hungry boy. How long have you been here, all alone? Poor boy.” 

Lancelot whined in response and leaned against her, pressing his head against her chest. He turned pleading eyes on the party, and Kildrik sighed. “Well, we can always hunt once we’re out of here. We should be able to feed four of us.”

“Are we seriously taking the dog?” Lev asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, we did find him in a creepy house. Alone.”

“Of course he can come. Lancelot will fit right in, won’t you boy?” Irene cooed and rubbed Lancelot’s ears. The dog made a low ruff and gave them a doggy smile, tongue hanging out as he panted. Irene giggled. “That settles it, you are definitely coming with us.”

Kcaj sighed. “As you like, Lady Irene. Though it will no doubt be a dangerous journey, the dog will be joining us.”

Kildrik laughed at the resignation in his voice. “She’s done this before, I take it?”

“I am not one to comment upon my companions...tendencies with animals.”

Irene burst into laughter, leaning against the happily panting dog. Lev snickered while Kildrik gave a full belly laugh. “You’re a wiser man than most, Kcaj!”

It took a while before they calmed down enough to begin exploring again. Their guards rose again and it was almost as if an oppressing atmosphere once again descended upon them. Lancelot stuck close to Irene, looking around in fear and shaking. One of Irene’s hand rested on the poor animal’s head, rubbing his ears reassuringly. They decided to head upstairs, having scoured most of the first floor. It brought them to a grand landing on the second floor. The landing was decorated the same as the rest of the home.

“Is it me, or does that look a bit...unpleasant?” Kildrik nodded towards the enormous painting that hung on the wall across from the stairs. “I don’t think any of them are smiling.”

The painting made Irene’s skin crawl. It was a family portrait, from the looks of it. The children from earlier stood in front, wearing similar clothing to what the party had seen. The girl’s hair was curled and pinned in a somewhat elaborate updo, making her look a bit more mature for her age. The boy wore a fine suit that was almost the mirror image of the man assumed to be his father. The older gentleman stood tall and confident. He had one hand on the boy’s shoulder and the other resting on the back of the mother, looking for all the world like a man who had everything he wanted. The woman made Irene want to burn something. She stood ramrod straight as if shying away from her husband’s hand. The girl stood in front of her but was ever so casually edged forward as if leaning as far away as she could. She didn’t look ahead, but instead down at the baby she held in her arms. The expression on her face was...it could not quite be called hatred. Distaste, as if she were holding a deformed creature rather than a baby. 

Irene quickly looked away. “Yes, it does look unpleasant.”

“That would be the children and young Walter, I presume.” Kcaj tilted his head and stepped closer to the painting. “How odd. I am not knowledgeable of the arts, but this painting looks to be quite old, does it not?”

Lev frowned and peered at it. “...It kind of does, yeah. That seems really weird. The kids look about the same, so why does it look so old? Are we dealing with ghosts?”

Irene shivered. “I say we keep looking. Walter may...at the very least, we can find out what happened in this dreadful place. If there are spirits here, we can help lay them to rest if nothing else.”

“Aye,” KIldrik nodded. “I think that is the best course of action. Let’s get to searching this floor.” He nodded to one of the doors and headed through. 

The second floor yielded much the same results as the first. The rooms were empty, yet the whispering continued. On occasion, they would walk into a room and the whispers increased, but never to a level where they could make anything out. It seemed to consist of some guest bedrooms and more sitting rooms, though Irene perked up as she walked into a small library. “Oh!” She exclaimed before she could stop herself, approaching the shelves without hesitation.

Lev poked in his head behind her, Kildrik and Kcaj checking a bedroom across the hall from them. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that they have one. Find anything interesting?”

Irene flipped through a book. “Somewhat, actually. Most of it looks like old family records, bookkeeping regarding a windmill, and any related business. It seems like this is where they kept those sorts of things. But there are a few interesting books on magic, surprisingly. Maybe one of the family had an interest in the arcane? It all seems to be novice level stuff, though. Someone just beginning or dabbling in the study.”

“Uh...I’m sure that’s quite interesting, but I meant anything related to the weirdness.” Lev made a gesture. “Unless those magic books have something?”

“Oh, no, not really.” Irene blushed and hastily put down the book she had been flipping through. “As I said, a lot of this is just basic theory and novice-level musings. My parents had me read similar books when I was a child.”

“Your parents are wizards, then?”

Irene shifted her weight and bit the inside of her cheek. “They are yes.” She placed the book back and turned away from the bookshelf. “let's go check in on the others. Nothing here will help us. Come on Lancelot.” 

The dog gave a friendly huff and followed her out of the library. Lev shrugged and headed towards the room the rest of the party had been checking. Heading inside, they found the two looking through a jewelry box. “You guys find anything good? Maybe something we can use?”

Kcaj made a small noise. “These jewels look to have some value. And though I do not condone thievery, there is too much oddness here to make me adhere to what I would usually. Master Kildrik informs me that the box would be useful, as it seems to be pure silver.”

Kildrik smiled. “If the lass doesn’t mind, I’ll hold onto it. I could use it for a few spells.” He held out the necklaces from inside out to her. “In exchange, I say you hold onto these. I can’t trust Lev with them, he’d lose them before too long.”

The half-elf grumbled. “That was one time, it wasn’t my fault.”

Irene chuckled and placed the jewelry in a pouch at her waist. “I’m sure, Lev. Did you two find anything else in here?”

Kcaj held out an old letter to Irene. The paper was yellowed with age, which only fueled their suspicions about the goings-on in the house. “Just this, Lady Irene. It seems illuminating, but perhaps not very uplifting.” 

Irene frowned and took the letter carefully, softly reading it aloud.

“My Dear Mrs. Petrovna,

Your advice on dealing with the unwanted fiend in my home is very good advice indeed. Tonight's ceremony will proceed as planned when the moon is at its highest peak - without, of course, the attendance of Mr. Durst. I must agree with you that, yes, with such an innocent sacrifice our proceedings may have better results. Although, "innocent" is not quite the term I would use.

My Thanks,

Mrs. Elisabeth Durst.”

The blood in Irene’s veins went cold. “Oh, dear gods…” Her mind went instantly back to the painting, to the woman and her expression towards the baby in her arms, and she felt sick.

Kildrik sighed. “Blood and stone, I was afraid of this.” He shook his head in disgust. “Damn cultists. I don’t know who or what they worship, but they’re all the damn same.”

Lev’s face was expressionless, his eyes cold. “I think we can figure out what happened here.”

“Perhaps. It is a grisly thing, but I think we should continue searching the manor. If any from this cult are still alive, then they must be brought to justice.” Kcaj insisted. “If this fiend still exists, we must destroy it as well.”

“Agreed,” Kildrik muttered. “I can’t leave this place knowing it might still be skulking around. A great many injustices have been done here. I say we make it right.”

“I’m with you all,” Irene said, tucking the note away. “If nothing else, we can always burn this place to the ground.”

Lev grinned. “I’m with you there.”

Determined, the four continued to search the floor. They discovered what looked like the master bedroom, nicking a few more pieces of jewelry in the process. Kcaj had discreetly turned away, saying nothing. Irene took a distinct, childish pleasure in ripping a few dresses that she believed had belonged to the Lady of the manor. 

They came to a room closer to the end of a hallway and froze as a baby’s soft wail came from inside. Irene’s eyes widened. “Is that Walter? But...how?”

“Could be similar to the voices we’ve been hearing,” Kildrik said, gripping his ax tightly. “We should be prepared for any number of nasty things.”

“Agreed,” Kcaj said as he drew his sword and positioned himself in front of the door. “On three?”

The others nodded and fanned out, readying their weapons. Irene muttered and made some gestures over her quarterstaff. Both her holy symbol and the weapon glowed with soft light and after it settled, the wood looked much firmer and gleamed in the sparse light. The four waited for a breath, then Kcaj kicked open the door.


	4. Innocents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further exploration of the mysterious manor begins to reveal some of the more disturbing secrets and hints of something more sinister.

The door slammed off of the wall with a bang that echoed through the manor. Kcaj stepped in his sword in hand. “Surrender at once! You will be brought to justice!” 

The answer was a loud scream and a figure huddled against the far wall, her arms over her head. “No! Mercy, please! I beg you!”

Kcaj stepped forward again and raised his sword. “Tell us where young Walter is! Where is the lord and lady of this manor!”

The woman cried out in terror as Kcaj approached. “I-I don’t know! Please, please don’t hurt me! The children need me!”

Kildrik walked in around Kcaj, and lowered his ax, his eyes wide as he noticed something around the woman. “What the...Kcaj, lower your sword.”

“Master Kildrik, this woman may have answers for us and she is most likely implicit in what happened here. Living or no, she must answer for them.”

The woman’s arms lowered and she glared at Kcaj. “I had no hand in any of this! All I wanted was to protect the children!” The eerie green glow around her began to darken slightly. “They were innocent in all of this! Don’t you dare hurt them!”

“Our intention is to find out what happened and bring the perpetrators to justice. The children deserve to have justice.”

Irene’s eyes widened as she stepped into the room. “Oh, gods…”

The ghostly woman’s eyes watered. “They didn’t deserve this...any of this…” she sobbed and hunched over. “Walter...he…”

“Madam, where is the baby? It may not be too late to save him. Aid us, and perhaps your own soul will be at peace.” Kcaj said gently, lowering his sword but keeping his hands tense around the hilt. 

Lev shuddered, keeping to the back of the party. He had lowered his rapier and drawn his cloak tight around himself. “Gods...I hate ghosts…”

“Miss, please help us,” Irene implored. She stepped forward, her quarterstaff at her side. “Please, tell us all that you can. Maybe, we can help somehow. You don’t deserve to suffer like this.”

“I do...I deserve this…” The woman sniffled, but straightened, her form flickering for a few moments. She was dressed in a humble maid’s dress, her hair neatly piled under a simple hat. “Will you...will you help the children?”

“We will,” Irene promised. “We swear it.”

“Aye, by Moradin’s blood we will.” KIldrik nodded.

The spirit sniffled again. “Thank you...I know that I’m dead. I’ve been dead for…” Her eyes went glassy. “I don’t know how long. I can’t remember, it hurts to remember how I...I…” She shuddered.

“Don’t force yourself to remember that,” Irene said, stepping forward. “Just try to remember something that could help us, please.”

The maid shuddered and nodded. “I...I was a caretaker for the children. Rose, Thorne, and Walter. Their parents were busy people, and when they began their dealings in the basement, it only got worse. Especially Mrs. Durst. The way she would look at the children...she frightened me.” Her form flickered with the force of her shudder. “But the children were so sweet, such kind darlings. I adored them all. I loved them all as if they were my own.” She smiled, her form brightening. “Even when they had to remain in the attic, they were such sweet things. They were so brave and creative, always coming up with new games. You should really go and see them. I think they’re still upstairs...I should go get Walter…”

“Wait-!” Kildrik stepped forward, reaching out as the spirit floated past them, vanishing through the side door. He threw it open, revealing a wall-length mirror and an empty crib. He let out a sigh. “Well, that wasn’t very helpful. Now what?”

“To the attic, I think. Didn’t she say the children were kept there? I don’t know what we’ll find, but it could help.” Irene said. She called for Lancelot, who had taken to cowering outside of the room. She managed to coax him to her side and rejoined the others, stepping into the small side room. “Was this Walter’s room? It’s so small…”

“Thanks to that letter, something tells me the lady of the house,” Lev sneered a bit. “Wasn’t too fond of the youngest. Plus, the stairs didn’t go up any further than this floor. The entrance could be anywhere in this old house.” He frowned and peered at the mirror, giving it a once over. 

“Perhaps we should begin here, then?” Kcaj looked around the room. “Perhaps there is a secret door?”

“It would be fitting with this creepy place,” Lev muttered as he examined the mirror. “In fact…” he traced around the edge of the mirror, smirking when he pressed a button on the side. There was a click, and he swung the mirror away from the wall, revealing an opening and a set of stairs leading up. “Right on the money there, Kcaj. Secret passage in the creepy rich house, check.”

Kildrik chuckled, patting his arm as he led the way up the stairs. “Good lad. Now let’s see what’s up here.”

The attic was fairly large, filled mostly with furniture covered in sheets and dust boxes. Most of it was neatly piled against the walls and in corners, as it only temporarily put away. The party made their way across, heading for a door on the other side of the room. It was much heavier looking than what they had seen thus far, with several heavy locks built into the door.

“Did the maid not say the children were kept in here?” Kcaj said as he examined the door. “Why on earth would they need so many locks for children?”

“You don’t want to know, Kcaj. I doubt it was for pleasant reasons.” Lev said. He eyed the door with narrowed eyes. “Anyone know how to pick locks?”

“We have no need to, Master Lev.” Kcaj gripped the doorknob, braced himself, and pulled. The door opened with a loud crack, almost falling off of its hinges. He swung it to the side, resting it against the wall. “There we are my...friends.” He trailed off, staring into the room. “I see…”

“Kcaj?” Irene peered around the Warforged, leaning into the room. Lancelot had taken up a post by the side of the door, whimpering and shaking. The room was small but fully furnished with two comfortable beds and what looked like an elaborate dollhouse sitting beside a wall. “What is it?” Then her eyes were drawn to a pair of bundles on the floor. At first glance, they looked to be merely piles of children’s clothing. Clothing that seemed very familiar. She stepped closer and gasped, her face going pale. “Oh…”

“Indeed. Tis a most gruesome sight.” Kcaj said somberly, moving so that Lev and Kildrik could enter. “This house is a foul place.”

“I have to say, I agree with ya, Kcaj.” Kildrik’s shoulders drooped at the sight of two small skeletons. “I don’t know what foul deeds went on here, but clearly this place needs to be cleansed.”

Lev stared at the bones, his face expressionless and his eyes cold. He moved forward and silently began to wrap up the bones using the blankets from the beds. He treated them tenderly, making sure to give the fragile bones extra protection as he placed them inside of his pack. “I plan on laying them to rest as soon as we can.” His voice was harsh. “I don’t want to leave them here alone any more than they already have.” He turned, his too bright and narrowed. “I won’t leave them here.”

Kcaj nodded at him. “This is good of you to do, Master Lev. The children deserve a proper burial. You are a good man.”

Irene nodded. “You’re right, they shouldn’t be left all alone up here. We take them with us, and lay them to rest when we can.”

Lev stared for a bit, then nodded and turned away, picking up his pack. He held it tenderly in his arms as if cradling a baby. “Now we just need to find out what happened to Walter.”

“I hope you can. I worry about him.”

The voice made them all jump and turn towards the dollhouse. There was an odd shimmer to the air, and standing before it was the little girl they had met outside of the house. Her dress and ribbons were the same as when they met her. Her brother was beside her, half hiding behind his big sister. Both of them had a shiny green appearance similar to the maid. “He’s so small, I’m scared to think of what happened to him.”

“Um...hello again,” Irene said hesitantly, hastily blinking away the growing moisture in her eyes. “Um...Rose, right? And you must be Thorne?”

The boy, Thorne, stared at her shyly before turning away. Rose’s pale cheeks flushed a darker green. “Yes, that’s us. I’m sorry we dragged you in here. We...didn’t remember we were dead. It’s hard to remember sometimes. It hurts too, so we don’t really think about it too much. We know that we’re dead but sometimes it’s like we’re still alive.”

Kildrik stepped forward, his ax to the side. “It’s alright children. No one’s blaming you for anything, nor should they. You were innocents in all this. Do you...remember anything?”

Rose bit her lip. “Sort of. Mother and father were having their friends come over. They wore these weird robes and spoke weird all of the time. We always had to stay in the attic when they were over, I guess because of whatever was in the basement. I think it was a monster, but I don’t know.” She shook her head. “We were never allowed to know what they were doing, Father said it was grown-up stuff. And Mother...she just got creepy about it. She would get mad if we asked, so miss Maggie said we should stop asking.”

“Miss Maggie?”

Rose nodded. “She took care of us kids. She was really nice.” She smiled. “Miss Maggie would play with us, read to us and tell us stories about magic! She loved us, in a way Mother never did.” Her shoulders drooped. “Especially after Walter was born. She got angrier, snapped a lot too. She started to ignore us, even Father, and spend more time with her friends. They would always talk so secretly, though we couldn’t figure out what.”

“About sorcery, perhaps? Did you pick up on anything like that?” Irene asked gently.

“Sorcery? Like magic?” Rose shrugged. “I mean, they talked fancy all the time. But magic doesn’t exist, not really. That’s only in stories.”

Irene smiled and knelt down. “Oh, I guarantee that magic is very real. Here, let me show you.” she reached into her pouch and pulled out a pen that she used for writing. Thankfully, her habit of keeping it on her person prevented it from joining the rest of her possessions. She whispered a word, her holy symbol shined briefly and the pen lit up with a luminous glow. The childrens’ eyes widened and their mouths dropped.

“Magic! You did real magic!” Rose exclaimed, smiling widely. “Wow!” She leaned forward, giggling. “That’s amazing!”

Irene giggled. “You see? Magic is quite real. Perhaps your parents knew some spells too?”

“I guess so. They didn’t show us anything cool like this. They just talked about creepy stuff.”

“Hm, do you know a Mrs. Petrovna, by chance?”

“Oh! Yes!” Rose nodded. “She was one of Mother’s friends! They talked together an awful lot, having tea and talking about adult things. She’s the one who told Mother to build that secret room in the library.”

Irene perked up at the mention of the library. “There’s a secret room in there?”

“Yup.” Rose nodded. “Father worked in the library all the time, especially after Mother had the secret room made. Oh!” Rose smiled and turned to her dollhouse. Thorne stood on the other side and opened the roof. “Look! Father made this for us. It’s the house! Because you showed us real magic, you can look! You can find the secret room this way!” 

The party moved closer to peer inside of the elaborate dollhouse. Irene gaped. “Oh my goodness...it’s an exact model of the house!”

“Isn’t it amazing? Father had it made for my birthday! Thorne and I play with it all the time! We wanted to play with Walter too…” Rose sagged a bit.

“It is amazing, young lass.” Kildrik looked over the model. “Look here, seems that there’s an entry to the basement here in the attic. Goes straight down, it looks like.”

“Oh! And here!” Irene pointed to the library. “The secret room! I definitely want to look in there. Who knows? Maybe that’s where they hid their spellbooks. Who knows what could be in there?”

Kcaj nodded. “Thank you, children. I promise you, we will find out what happened to young Walter, and make sure your souls may rest.”

Rose looked up at Kcaj, her eyes wide. “Wow...you’re tall. Do you wear that mask all the time? Why?”

“It is my face, young Rose. The mask is my face, the armor my body.”

“Huh, how come?”

“This was the way I was built.”

“Why?”

Kcaj paused. “...I do not understand the question.”

“Why were you built like that? Who built you? Did they make you with magic? Why did they make you?”

Irene chuckled at Kcaj’s discomfort. It was something she was able to pick up after years of knowing the Warforged. They were more used to people running away from him rather than the barrage of questions. She softly whistled, calling to Lancelot in an effort to save her friend. The big dog trotted in, plopping down by her side and leaning against her. He drew back a bit at the sight of the ghosts but a good ear scratch helped him stay calm. As she hoped, Rose’s questions halted and her eyes went huge at the sight of the large dog. 

“A doggy! You have a doggy? Oh, he’s so cute! What’s his name?”

“He’s not yours?” Lev asked.

Rose shook her head. “No. We wanted a pet, but Mother would never allow it.” She scrunched her nose. “...I really didn’t like her sometimes.”

Irene chuckled. “That’s not always a bad thing, honey. Your mother...didn’t sound like the nicest lady.”

“I guess…” Rose and Thorne’s forms dimmed a bit. “We’re tired...I think we’re going to rest for a bit. It’s not like sleep but...you guys can rest here if you want. We don’t mind. You’re going to help Walter, right?”

Irene nodded. “We’re going to do whatever we can for him, I promise.”

“You can count on it.” Lev nodded.

Rose smiled, then she and her brother faded. Kildrik sighed. “They’re not at rest, not yet. But it takes effort to be visible, to be this close with the Material Plane. Poor things...I say we take them up on the offer to rest. A few short hours, then we check that secret room and head for the basement.”

“That sounds agreeable, master Kildrik.” Kcaj nodded. “I will take up a guard in case something attacks us.”

“Not sure if I’ll be able to sleep, but I’ll try.” Lev muttered and took up a spot against the wall. 

Irene and Kildrik spent a few moments studying the model house before finding spots for themselves. Lancelot curled up against Irene, half of his bulk on top of her. They had few rations but managed with what they had before taking their short rest.


	5. More Mysteries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party starts to learn more about the Durst family and their fates, along with some hints toward some future encounters.

They rested only for a few short hours. The house seemed determined to prevent them from getting substantial rest. The oppressive atmosphere hadn’t changed, which at least meant that it hadn’t gotten worse. The children did not reappear, and the room seemed sadder and emptier than before. 

Lev looked around the small room, his pack cradled in his arms. “Are we sure we can lay their spirits to rest?” He looked to Kildrik and Irene. “I mean, you two would know best. Is there a special ritual or something?”

“Not necessarily,” Irene said thoughtfully. “Unless they were so religious that their souls just can’t move on. With children, that’s rarely the case. I only know a few very obscure religions that would fall under, and the likelihood of this family being part of it is so negligible that it’s not even worth considering. For the most part, even for the religious, just a grave and some words will often do the trick. Just lay the body to a respectful rest. That’s usually the trick. Our souls are so attached to our bodies that defiling them is typically the easiest way to get your self a Spector or worse depending on the degree of desecration. And-” She cut herself off, her cheeks becoming pink as she realized the half-elf was staring blankly at her. “Sorry. No, if we take care of what’s going on in the basement, and lay their remains to rest, they should move on.”

Kildrik chuckled. “Lemme guess, your domain is Knowledge?”

Irene blushed. “Arcana. My primary field of study is the arcane. Anything magic, really.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that, lass,” Kildrik patted her arm. “I bet it will come in handy here.”

“You never know, with how crazy this place is turning out to be,” Lev smiled. “Let’s head down to that library and see what’s in that room before we go traipsing down into the basement.”

Irene nodded. “Good idea. We may find a clue about what went on down there.”

“We should remain cautious, as always,” Kcaj said. “The rooms may have been clear before, but something could have made its way to them in the time that we have been here.”

“No one said we weren’t going to be careful, Kcaj,” Irene rubbed Lancelot’s ears. “We’d be fools to not be.”

Kcaj nodded. “Then let us proceed.” He opened the door, then headed out into the attic, the others quickly falling in behind him. Lancelot stuck closely to Irene, doing his best to stay quiet and unnoticeable. In the middle of the room, he paused. “Do we wish to make a sweep of the attic first? To ensure nothing awaits us when we return?”

“May be a smart idea,” Kildrik agreed. “May as well find the secret door so we can just head straight down after checking the library. I think it was somewhere over here.” Kildrik waved an arm then began to head for a corner of the attic. The others spread out, carefully checking the smaller cubbies and beneath the draped furniture. Kildirik examined the area where he knew the door should be, carefully knocking on a few sections of the wall that looked somewhat newer than the rest of the attic, though the age and years of dust made it a challenge. Finally, he found a small catch and opened a thin door. The hallway leading down was narrow and dark, though thankfully the stairs seemed solid enough. “Found the passage,” He called out to the others. “We can head down when we’re ready.”

“And I found Maggie.”

Lev’s words caused three heads to turn towards him. He stood next to an old divan, holding up the sheet that had been draped over it. Laying on it was a body dressed in a maid’s clothing. It was surprisingly preserved, looking more like an emaciated husk than the skeletons the children were. There were numerous holes in her chest and a knife was sticking out of her chest. “Dressed in her clothing, looks like she was stabbed.”

“Dear gods,” Irene shuddered. “But...why?”

“I’m thinking one of the Dursts didn’t like her very much,” Lev muttered. He tossed the knife away and used the sheet to start wrapping up the body. “I’m going to lay her to rest too, as soon as we can.” He took off his pack and gently laid it on top of the maid’s.

“A good thing, Master Lev. I believe that is it for this particular area. Let us head down to the library.”

Thankfully, the house seemed to be as barren and empty as before as the party made their way back down to the second floor. They could still hear the odd whispers as they made their way to the library, though they were no clearer than they had been before. 

They made their way to the library and Irene immediately started to make her way around the winding shelves. “If the dollhouse is as accurate as Rose proclaims, then the entrance should be around here.” She stopped at a section of bookshelves and started to carefully look it over.

“Please be careful, Lady Irene,” Kcaj said as he followed her. “We do not know if there are any traps still active within this place. Cultists are quite paranoid people.”

“I will, I’m just trying to see if there’s a...ah ha!” She pushed some books aside and found a small piece of wall that was jutting out suspiciously. “Here!” She gave it a push and quickly stepped away from the bookcase. There was a click and a groan of something moving. The bookcase then began to move as the section of the wall behind it moved back. It then swung inward, revealing a small room barely lit by the lights of the library. There were a few tables holding books and scraps of old parchment, scattered with various tools used in magic rituals. In one corner was a chest, and slumped in front of it were the old remains of a would-be thief. 

“Ugh, looks like someone had some bad luck,” Lev said as he walked over to the chest and the body. There was nothing but bones and old clothing left. Lev started to look through the pockets, pulling out an old but working set of lockpicking tools. “These may come in handy,” He murmured as he pocketed the set. “Poor guy must have set off a trap.”

“You think so, Master Lev?” Kcaj asked, coming up behind the bard. 

Lev nodded. “No doubt,” he looked over the chest, peering into the lock. “I can just see the remains of an old trap. These are common enough, I’ve seen plenty of them. The Black Hammer company even hires experts to make them for more precious cargo. But this has long been set off.” he said as he swung open the chest. 

“Find anything useful?” Kildrik asked, poking at some of the apparatus. 

“Has to be more useful than this garbage,” Irene sneered as she tossed some pamphlets away. She had been busying herself looking over the books and papers covering the tables. “The tools are legitimate, but the rest of it-ugh!” She held up a page full of diagrams and symbols, the words written in an odd language.

“What does it say?” Kildrik asked, peering at it. “I sort of recognize a few symbols but-”

“It’s all trash,” Irene grimaced. “Cult paraphernalia. Maybe some of these symbols are used in rituals, but all of this is nothing more than absolute trash. These weren’t mages. These were pathetic attempts at becoming mages. None of these are any kind of legitimate rituals or spells! And the writing in these books, it’s despicable, romantic trash! I’ve read better written Penny Dreadfuls!” She shook her head, a look of absolute disgust on her face. 

Kildrik chuckled. “Finding yourself a bit insulted, lass?”

“Don’t even get me started!” Irene threw up her arms, startling Lancelot a bit. “It’s all utter trash! This is the most pathetic cult I’ve ever seen!”

“And yet, there are still strange goings-on within this place, Lady Irene,” Kcaj said thoughtfully. “Is it possible that they managed to stumble across something real?”

“I-” Irene trailed off, thinking. “It...isn't impossible. After all, there needs to be intent behind a spell or ritual. It’s an integral part of getting the result you want. It’s entirely possible that these people managed to do...something, even if they had the entirely wrong methods. Make enough...sacrifices, and you’re bound to get something’s attention.”

“Well that’s creepy,” Lev shivered and returned to the chest. “Not much in here, it looks like. Bunch of old papers, looks like the deeds to the house and...a windmill?” Lev gently lifted the papers and handed them to Kildrik, then pulled out a long piece of parchment. “This looks like a will. It leaves everything to...Rose and Thorne, signed by Gustav Durst. Must have been the dad.” 

“What do we do with them? None of them are alive now…” Irene winced. “Do we...just take them?”

“We could preserve them in these until we figure out what to do with them,” Lev pulled out three books. They had elaborate covers of shiny leather, in much better shape than the parchments. He opened them to show blank, but high-quality paper within. “Huh...what are these? Notebooks?”

“Oh!” Irene brightened. “I’ll take those!” She eagerly accepted the books. “I recognize this parchment. These are used for writing down spells and rituals. Wizards commonly use them. I may not be one, but I can put them to use!” she carefully placed the deeds and will between the pages to preserve them and placed the books within her pack. “These will make for excellent notebooks!”

Lev chuckled. “You might make use out of these too then,” He said, holding up three scrolls. “Looks like they knew some magic if these are what I think they are.”

Irene gave a little squeal as she took them to examine. “Oh yes, these will be very useful! In fact, Kildrik or I could use these,” She looked at the dwarf. “These are divine spells. Nothing fancy or big, but they could be useful.”

Kildrik held up a hand. “I’ll leave them in your keeping for now, lass. We can decide how to use them later.”

Irene nodded and packed them away along with the journals. “Was there anything else in there?”

“Nah, nothing of any worth. More of that cult paraphernalia. I don’t think this guy would have gotten much aside from the magic stuff,” he gave the body a very light shove, then paused. “Hold on…” He frowned, then picked up a scrap of paper that had fluttered to the floor. “I think this was in the guy’s hand. Weird…hey guys, listen to this;

My most pathetic servant,

I am not a messiah sent to you by the Dark Powers of this land. I have not come to lead you on a path to immortality. However many souls you have bled on your hidden alter, however many visitors you have tortured in your dungeon, know that you are not the ones who brought me to this beautiful land. You are but worms writhing on my earth.

You say that you are cursed, your fortunes spent. Your wife abandoned love for madness after you took solace in the bosom of another woman and sired a bastard son. Cursed by darkness? Of that, I have no doubt. Save you from your wretchedness? I think not. I much prefer you as you are.

Your dread lord and master,  
Strahd von Zarovich”

“Dread lord and master?” Kcaj made a sound that would have been a snort had it come from anyone else. “That is fairly dramatic. Whoever this von Zarovich is, he is clearly a delusional man.”

Irene’s nose wrinkled. “Clearly. I would guess that this man is the leader of the cult. He’s a conman if nothing else.” 

Lev frowned. “I think I’m starting to understand a few things about this place. I don’t think we’re the first visitors to end up here.”

Kildrik nodded. “Aye, it sounds as though they’ve had others come through here. Other victims.”

“We will not fall to such a fate,” Kcaj affirmed, one hand on his sword. “We will defeat whatever evils reside in this place.”

“Agreed,” Irene nodded. “And what that note said about siring a bastard son...the look on that bitch’s face in the painting and her letter to her friend makes things clearer.”

“The guy has an affair with someone, and the wife goes crazy. Tale as old as time,” Lev sneered. “I’ll bet you anything that it was the maid, Maggie. The way she talked about the kids, especially Walter, she loved those kids like a mother. That was probably her room with the crib,” he ran a hand through his hair. “That poor kid didn’t deserve to suffer just because his dad was an asshole.”

“It also sounds like Mrs. Durst had more of a loyalty to the cult than the father,” Irene mused. “Something obviously happened, went wrong during whatever ceremony they...included poor Walter in. I’m guessing the entire cult was killed as a result.”

“Mrs. Durst probably snapped and murdered Maggie beforehand, which led to the kids starving to death,” Lev grimaced. “This entire place is messed up.”

“All the more reason we need to purify it,” Kildrik said. “We should head into the basement and clear it out. That should be enough to put all of these souls to rest.”

“Agreed, master Kildrik,” Kcaj nodded. “I think that is all we shall find here. I am not sure if anything here has aided us, beyond determining a few motivations.”

“We at least know some of what the cult has done,” Irene pointed out. “Granted, sacrificing people for fake rituals isn’t exactly a good thing, but it does give us an idea of their abilities, or lack thereof,” She grew thoughtful. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we encountered some version of undead in the basement if that is where the majority of the cultists' bodies are. I highly doubt they would be anything truly monstrous, something akin to liches or revenants. Well, I mean of course it will be dangerous but I don’t think that we would encounter anything truly horrifying...well, this entire situation is horrifying but-ugh,” Irene broke off, her face a deep red. “What I mean is, I do not think the cultists were powerful enough in life to be granted dark powers akin to lichdom upon death.” 

Kildrik chuckled. “Good to know, lass,” He patted her arm. “We’ll go down prepared for a fight, not to worry.”

“Indeed, Lady Irene,” Kcaj nodded, then turned to the exit. “I suggest we head down to the basement and proceed with clearing out the evil within. The sooner, the better.” 

“I’m all for that.” Lev stood and straightened, following Kcaj and the others out the library. “Is it weird that I can almost ignore those weird whispers now?”

“I think it’s a sign that we need to be done with this place as soon as possible,” Kildrik said. “Who knows? Maybe after we cleanse this place and take care of the bodies, we can burn it to the ground.”

Lev smiled. “I’m definitely all for...do you guys hear that?”

The party stopped, straining their ears to listen. Beyond the whispers, were soft thumps and sounds coming from the floor below. Lancelot whimpered and pulled back, cowering behind Irene. 

Kcaj slowly drew his sword, speaking in a low tone. “I cannot make out what they are, or if they are speaking.”

Kildrik huffed and drew his ax. “They may even just be thieves. But either way, we should confront them. If they are...something else, we need to deal with them.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Lev said softly, drawing his rapier and creeping toward the stairs. “I’ll go first, I’m quieter than you lot.”

“We will support you, Master Lev.” Kcaj nodded and slowly approached the stairs, Kildrik and Irene armed and behind him. Irene had ordered Lancelot into another nearby room, which the dog quickly adhered to. They paused when Lev held up a hand, silently motioning them to take up positions. The sounds were closer now, accompanied by soft voices as whoever they belonged to began to climb the stairs. As quietly as they could, the four took up positions to ambush the newcomers, hands on their weapons. Slowly, the voices approached. Whoever they were, they seemed to be taking the empty house as seriously as they were. 

The party grew tense as a light grew closer to the top. Someone was carrying a lantern or torch, it seemed. After what felt like an eternity, two figures soon appeared from the top of the stairs. Both of them looked somewhat elven, with the pointed ears and similar, somewhat delicate features like Lev had. Both looked to be about a similar age as well. The man was dressed in dark leathers, a rapier at his waist, and what looked like numerous daggers strapped to his waist and legs. His dark hair was neatly pulled back, dark eyes scouring the landing. The woman also dressed in darker leathers, though she seemed to be weaponless. Her dark grey hair was styled in dreadlocks and pulled back into a neat bun. Her bright green eyes seemed her seem a lot more cheerful than her dour companion.

Kcaj acted first, stepping from his vantage point and holding up his sword. “Halt! State your intents or be cut down!” 

The woman looked amused while the male immediately drew his rapier and stepped in front of his companion. “Who in hell are you? How about you state your intent!”

Kcaj raised his sword higher. “Do not trifle with us. I do not know who you are but you do not seem to be part of the evil within this place. I warn you to turn back and-”

“Wait a minute...weren’t you new hires?”


	6. The Dursts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Down into the basement of horrors and the tragedy within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized writing this that this won't be entirely accurate to the campaign. I'll be adding things, changing things, but it will follow the general storyline and I hope it's entertaining! There will be more of a focus on my character, Irene, because well, I know her the best. But all the same, I hope readers enjoy it!

“Weren’t you new hires?”

Everyone seemed to freeze, turning as one toward Kildrik. The paladin had lowered his ax and was peering at the pair that had seemed to just arrive. “Yeah...you are, aren’t you? One of the last ones to join the caravan, if I recall right.”

“Master Kildrik, you say that you recognize these two individuals?” Kcaj asked. His head had swiveled to the dwarf when he spoke, though his body was still facing the new arrivals. 

“Aye! They’re decent folk, Kcaj. If anything, they’re probably as confused as we are.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “And standing right here. You’re with the company? Mind telling us just what in the hell is going on?”

“If we knew, believe me, I would feel a lot better about things,” Lev grumbled, lowering his rapier. “Let me guess, fell asleep, got surrounded by a thick mist, woke up and everyone was gone?”

“Indeed,” The woman spoke up, stepping out from around her friend. Her voice sounded low and older. When Irene looked closer, she could see some of the wrinkles the darker skin hid around the eyes and mouth. “We attempted to search for someone or some trace of the caravans. But we found nothing. Going deeper into the woods only made us feel...uneasy. So we managed to find our way out and headed here. It was the only other sign of civilization we could see. I assume you thought the same?”

Kildrik nodded. “Aye. I’m guessing you were camped far enough away that we didn’t see or hear you. When you approached this place, did you happen to run into two small children, by chance?”

The man frowned. “No, no kids. But the door did close and lock behind us when we came in. It was creepy. Not to mention the weird whispers that seemingly come from nowhere.”

Lev groaned. “Ah great. Not that we were planning to leave before we got business done, but that isn’t a good sign.”

Irene winced. “Well, hopefully, once we take care of the basement, whatever other enchantments are on this house will vanish.”

“Basement?” The man’s eyebrow rose. “I repeat my earlier question, the hell is going on here?”

“Short story, the house is haunted thanks to crazy, baby-killing cultists. Weird shit in the basement causing it all, going down to kill whatever is down there. Possibly some kind of monster.” Lev sheathed his rapier.

“No doubt there are undead too,” Irene added, coaxing poor Lancelot out of hiding. The dog latched itself to her. “I’m guessing the whispers we’ve been hearing are part of it all, too.”

At the mention of the undead, the pair shared a look. The woman’s golden eyes turned a few shades darker and she nodded to her companion. He returned it and sheathed his rapier. “Count us in, then. Strength in numbers and all that, yeah? What’s with the dog?”

“No idea,” Irene replied, rubbing Lancelot’s ears. “We found him here, and he didn’t belong to the owners. The ghosts confirmed it. I’m thinking he’s a runaway.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Ghosts?”

Kcaj nodded. “We encountered the spirits of two of the children,” He pointed to the large painting. “Rose and Thorne. They were quite informative about the goings-on with this manor and the family. With their testimony and other evidence, we have been able to compile a decent understanding of this manor.”

“Hm,” The woman nodded. “We will aid you. My name is Feyre. This is my companion, Halben.” She gestured to the man, who nodded at them. “We are no strangers to combat, you will not find us to be burdens, dears.”

“We’re glad for all the help we can get,” Irene smiled at them. “The door to the basement is in the attic. Let’s get going.”

“Attic?” Halben murmured as they followed the party to the attic. “Weird place, cult not included.”

“You’re telling me.” Lev replied. 

It didn’t take much of a discussion before the party descended the narrow passageway towards the basement. Kcaj insisted on going first and took no arguments. Halben offered to take and watch the rear of the group, leaving the others to decide amongst themselves what order to descend in. Irene managed to get Lancelot to remain in the children's’ room, the poor beast whimpering and cowering in a corner. The stairs ended in a wide-open area, allowing the group to spread out in a more defensive position. They slowly ventured forward, their eyes open for anything to suddenly burst out of the ground or out from behind the odd wall croppings, which formed alcoves. Bricks were lying about along with other traces of masonry. And, oddly enough, lit torches dotting the walls and providing some light.

Kcaj paused when he came to the first of several alcoves. “My friends,” he spoke in a low voice. “A coffin. An undead fiend may reside within.”

The others gathered, and Irene’s eyes caught sight of what was in another alcove. “There’s one over there. I think each of these has one.”

“And I don’t think they have any bodies in them,” Kildrik said, stepping forward to examine the first coffin. “The make of this one is too fine to be just anyone’s, even without this plaque,” He pointed to an old plaque lying at the foot of the coffin. It was covered in dust and almost invisible from a distance. “‘Gustav Durst.’ That’s the lord of the manor if the will and deeds are any indications.” 

Feyre frowned. “A family crypt, then?”

“I think so,” Irene said as she approached the second one, glaring at the plaque. “‘Elizabeth Durst.’ A family crypt in the making.”

“Aye,” Kildrik nodded as he took a proper look around. “Looks as though they started to build one. They were using pretty decent materials too.”

“If there is no undead here, then we should move on,” Kcaj said, walking for the hallway that lead further into the basement. The others gave one another a look and followed. They came to an intersection splitting off into two directions. Kcaj looked down both and picked a direction seemingly at random. 

They carefully explored for well over an hour. The party moved slowly, keeping an almost paranoid eye out for anything that may sneak upon them. They found rather spacious living quarters filled with cots and old chests. Searching them only revealed tattered robes and a dagger here and there. There was a kitchen attached, confirming the place to have belonged to the cult. Halben wrinkled his nose as he examined the daggers. 

“Cheap trash. These people were rich. Didn’t they put effort into any of this?”

“Only into the killing,” Irene said darkly. “They killed others here, poor Walter not included.”

“Who was Walter?” Feyre asked gently, seeing the woman’s dark expression.

“The baby from the portrait. Near as we can guess, the father had an affair with the maid which resulted in Walter. That woman,” Irene spat. “That called herself his wife hated the poor babe and must have sacrificed him for whatever rituals they were conducted. I hope that bitch died screaming.”

Feyre blinked. “That...is a terrible thing, poor babe. But we are here to avenge their spirits. Holding onto such hate will do you no good, even if she deserves it.”

Irene snorted. “Maybe, but if she has any remains down here, don’t expect me to bless them.”

The party soon headed back to the intersection, taking the alternate path. After a while, they began to notice a subtle slope to the floor, leading them down further into the earth. Their pace became slower, if anything, especially as the stone floor soon gave way to an earthen path. Feyre looked around with a thinly veiled look of disgust, occasionally sneering at seemingly nothing as they headed further down.

“Okay, is it just me, or does anyone else hear that?”

The party stopped, turning to Lev. The half-elf looked around, annoyed, and half-concentrating. “I know I’m not going crazy. You guys have to be hearing that too. I swear it’s getting louder, even.” He looked to Feyre and Halben. “At least you hear it, right?”

Irene frowned. “I mean, I’ve been filtering out the whispers but-”

“I don’t mean the whispers,” Lev insisted. “It’s something else. Sounds like chanting.”

There was silence as they strained their ears. After a moment, they began to hear what Lev had been talking about. The whispers were gone now, replaced by a steady cadence of low voices. Like the whispers, the words were too low to be made out though they did sound somewhat louder. 

“You hear it now? I think it’s been since we started looking down here. I didn’t notice until we started down this hallway. It’s been getting louder as we go along.”

“That is disturbing.” Halben agreed. “I hate cults.”

Kildrik grumbled. “Well, we’re fixing to cleanse this place once and for all. Soon enough we-”

“Look out!” Kaj stepped back as the earth in front of him erupted. His sword was out in an instant. From the earth, five forms dragged themselves with alarming speed out and to their feet. “Undead! Prepare for combat!”

“Foul beasts!” Kildrik yelled, swinging his ax at the nearest ghoul. The edges were glowing with a shimmering, golden light that burned the creature when it struck, slicing through it as if it were butter. The ghoul shrieked in agony and lunged for the paladin, rage in its eyes. There came a deep ring to the air as if a bell had rung from somewhere closeby. The ghoul shrieked louder and clawed at its head, stumbling away as ichor dribbled from its eyes and nose.

Feyre hissed and grinned wickedly. Then she made a motion and held out her hand. There was a plume of smoke and when it faded, she was gripping a scythe. “Wicked things.”

Kcaj, despite his armor body, moved with surprising grace and elegance as he danced between two of the ghouls. His sword sliced through them, not quite as cleanly or easily as Kildrik’s ax, but it caused them harm all the same. Halben darted between the ghouls, stabbing and ducking beneath their clawing grasps as if he were made of water. They always seemed to miss the half-elf by just an inch. Halben grinned wickedly as he came up behind one of the ghouls. He grabbed it by the throat, pulled its head back, and stabbed it between its shoulder blades, twisting the knife. The ghoul seemed to seize, then crumpled to the floor. It did not rise again.

Irene’s teeth were clenched as she faced off against one of the ghouls. Her quarterstaff shimmered, empowered by her magic. It hit harder than a simple wooden staff should have, caving in a shoulder as if it were a maul. Lev started forward to help her, only to see the ghoul become alight with green flames. He traded grins with Irene, then rushed to help Kcaj as she finished off her opponent. He stabbed one of the Warforged’s opponents, singing as he did. The melody he sang was discordant, with a strange undertone that set everyone who heard it on edge. The ghoul he had stabbed clawed at its ears, thrashing on Lev’s blade. Kcaj took advantage, cleaving off its head before turning and doing the same to his other opponent.

The last ghoul slashed at Feyre, who nimbly danced out of its reach, grinning and swinging her scythe. Somehow, she managed to hit exactly where Kildrik had earlier, slicing it neatly into two pieces. They fell to the floor, writhing for a bit before falling still. The hallway was silent, save for the chanting and heavy breathing of the party.

“So…” Lev managed. “Those were probably some of the cultists.”

“Most likely,” Feyre said with some disgust. “Foul things.”

“They’re finished now,” Irene wiped off her quarterstaff. The wood still shimmered with magic. “There are no doubt more. We should press forward, try to rid this place of them. It would give us less to deal with should we find something more powerful down here.” 

Kcaj nodded, wiping down his sword. “Agreed, Lady Irene. Let us move on.”

The party cleaned up and moved forward, kicking aside the remains of the ghouls. They continued down the path, keeping their eyes on the ground for more ghouls. They came to another intersection, this time with a single path branching off to the left. Kildrik made a noise and took a few steps down it, looking around at the masonry. “Now, see, why have all of this made of stone when the main path is mostly dirt? Shoddy work makes no damn sense.”

“Maybe it’s to leave more guys like those in case of intruders?” Halben suggested, pointing back toward where they fought the ghouls.

“Huh, mayhaps. This could be similar,” Kildrik tapped a few places on the stone walls. “Not very stable, probably made to collapse.” he muttered to himself, kneeling to inspect the stone.

“Hm, perhaps, Master Kildrik, we should continue forward and-”

“FILTH!”

The shriek caused all of them to jump, brandishing their still drawn weapons. Kildrik retreated a bit further into the stone corridor, ax glowing softly with holy light. There was a shuffling from ahead as a figure shuffled towards them. They spread out as much as they could in the corridor, watching as a pair of fiery bright eyes shining with hatred came closer to them. 

“Filthy insects! Puny, pathetic mortals! How dare you...how dare you!? You worms, filth! You won’t interrupt my work!”

Halben cringed back as the figure came into view. “Ugh, nasty.”

Irene glared hatefully as the undead form moved closer. The once beautiful dress was now torn and half-rotted away, revealing a gaunt and shriveled form beneath it. What was once beautiful dark hair was now a mass of tangled, filthy strands that may have once resembled hair. Terrible, long, claws shined in the torchlight along with its terrible red eyes. “Elizabeth Durst.”

The thing that was once Elizabeth shrieked in outrage. “How dare you speak my name!? Unworthy trash! You will die, you will all die and I will become more powerful! My master will grant me power and eternal beauty!”

“Bit late for that, bitch,” Lev snarked, his rapier at the ready. “You look uglier than Lolth.”

Elizabeth Durst shrieked louder, her eyes growing brighter as her rage built. “I have sacrificed many before you! I will kill as many as I must to obtain what I deserve!”

“Like how you murdered an innocent baby?” Irene snapped, her holy symbol beginning to glow. 

“That little bastard deserved to die! He was nothing in comparison to me! I deserve power! I-”

“By Moradin’s Light, begone foul abomination!” 

Once Elizabeth had gotten close enough to the intersection, Kildrik leaped from his hiding place with a loud battle cry. He swung his ax, now glowing bright with golden flames as he channeled the power of his god. Irene lunged forward, her holy symbol in her free hand and the other thrusting out her staff. “Begone foul witch!” At her words, a bright golden light suffused the staff and erupted from one end, slamming into Elizabeth at the same time as Kildrik’s ax. She screamed in pure agony as the radiant magic burned through her, setting her body alight with flame and magic. In seconds, nothing remained of the foul woman but ashes, the echoes of her unholy shrieks dying in the halls.

Kildrik panted, slowly lowering his ax. He muttered a dwarven curse at the pile of ashes. “Good riddance to ya, baby killer.”

“Agreed.” Irene muttered, slowly relaxing. Her muscles were beginning to ache and she felt some exhaustion in her soul. She had used a bit more power in that Guiding Bolt than was necessary. She would have to be more careful while they were down here.

“May her soul go to wherever the fates decree,” Feyre said solemnly. “She has reached her natural end at last.”

Kcaj nodded. “Then let us move onward, my friends. For there is yet more ahead. We must remain vigilant.”

“Trust me, Kcaj, we’re anything but relaxed right now.” Lev muttered as they moved on. They decided to ignore the possible trap corridor Kildrik had discovered and instead kept moving onward and downward. They came across a few more rooms that looked like bunks for low ranking cultists. These rooms were ignored except for a quick glance to ensure nothing was inside. The chanting grew louder, loud enough that some of the words had become a bit clearer for the party, even if they as of yet made no sense.

“Ancient land? That’s a weird thing to chant. Unless it’s somehow related to Druidry?” Lev glanced over at Irene, who shook her head.

“I highly doubt that. Nothing we have seen here so far even remotely relates to the practice. I’ve had some study of it,” she tapped her staff against the floor. “I enhance my weapon with a druidic spell. But nothing here is druidic. It’s something much darker than just necromancy.”

Feyre turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “You dislike necromancy?”

“Well, not as a school,” Irene said hesitantly. “I have nothing against necromancy itself. It’s a perfectly valid school of magic. I’m just not entirely fond of raising the dead. Speaking with spirits, I like to think I’m fairly alright with. But...I don’t really like the practice of raising the dead. I mean, unless circumstances are desperate enough to call for it. I know of villages that have had their dead raised to defend their homes from invaders and their spirits were perfectly content with that and they were put to rest afterward so it is not as though they were intelligent undead which is just too disturbing and-” She broke herself off, beet red. “Sorry, I just...I have complicated feelings towards it.” She squirmed, hoping she didn’t insult the older woman.

To her surprise, Feyre simply gave her a kind smile. “I am not entirely fond of the undead either. I dearly wish to see this house put to rest. But it is good that young people such as yourself have such open minds. It’s such a good thing to see.”

“Um, thank you?” Irene said awkwardly. Feyre simply chuckled and turned away.

The party paused beside a pair of ornate looking doors, taking up positions beside it. Kcaj stood in the front of it, sword at the ready. They exchanged a silent look, and with a nod Kcaj kicked open the door and stormed in, head swiveling around for any danger. He paused, going still as he took in the contents of the room. The others swarmed in, skidding to a stop at the sight of a body hanging from the ceiling. As with the body of Maggie, it looked surprisingly preserved, only shriveled and covered in rotted clothing that had once been a fine suit. Most of the hair had rotted away, but it was obvious enough that this was a man. 

“I...guess this is Mr. Durst, then?”

“I guess so, lad,” Kildrik approached the body slowly. He waved his hand over the body, murmuring. “Nothing malevolent here. He just...he’s dead.”

“At least he didn’t end up like his wife.”

Irene stepped forward and examined the form, frowning when she spotted something clenched in his fist. She gently worked it out, careful not to rip the paper or harm the body. After a minute or so, she had it. “Looks like he left a note. It’s...rather sad, actually.

My Beloved Children,

I wish I could do what all fathers do and tell you that monsters are not real. But it would not be true.  
Life can create things of exquisite beauty. But it can also twist them into hideous beings. Selfish. Violent. Grotesque. Monstrous. It hurts me to say that your mother has turned into one such monster, inside and out. And I am afraid the disease that afflicted her mind has taken hold of me as well.  
It sickens me to think about what we have put you through. There is no excuse. I only ask of you, though I know I do not have the right to do so, to try and forgive us. I despise what your mother has become, but I love and pity her all the same.  
Rose, I wish I could see you blossom into a strong, beautiful woman. Thorne, Walter, I wish I could be there for you. But I cannot. This is the only way.

Goodbye.”

There was a somewhat awkward silence amongst the party. Irene sighed. “For all of his faults, he at least loved his children. I don’t think he wanted any of this to happen.”

“Even a good man can do wrong,” Kcaj said simply, sheathing his sword. “He was party to many horrors. But at least he knew what he had done was wrong.”

“Aye. Hope his soul found some measure of peace.” Kildrik shook his head. “This place...it’s horrific. I’ll be glad to cleanse it and burn it down.”


	7. The End of the House of Horrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene and the party delve into the bowels of the Durst home to end the foul blight afflicting it, and to lay to rest its weary souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!! INFANT DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER. YOU ARE WARNED.

Kcaj set to cutting Gustav’s body down while Irene and Kildrik prepared to wrap the body. Thankfully, the room seemed to have belonged to the Durst’s and included a large bed. The blanket was old and worn, but good enough to wrap the body in. While they saw to the body, Lev, Halben, and Feyre saw to searching the room. They did their best to remain as silent as possible, keeping their eyes open for any additional undead horrors.

“Looks like this room is full of trophies,” Lev said with a grimace. “I’m guessing these were taken from other victims. Nothing really useful, except for a potion or two. Huh, and a flask of alchemist’s fire. Not bad. Who wants it? I’m good.”

“I’ll take it,” Irene said, turning to take the ceramic flask. She carefully packed it into her sack. “It’s good in a pinch.”

“Question is now, I suppose, what to do with his body?” Kildrik motioned to the wrapped body on the bed. 

Kcaj tilted his head. “We have cleared the previous passages to the crypts. Perhaps we could lay his body, and the remains of the children, to rest?”

Lev nodded. “I say we do it, in case something happens to the house when we take care of whatever else is in this basement. If something does happen, we’ll be too worried about getting out than laying them to rest, and I don’t want them to be forgotten.”

“Lev’s right,” Irene nodded. “Quick detour, then?”

Halben shrugged. “I’m game if that’s the plan. Let’s go.”

Kcaj nodded and hoisted the body of Gustav Durst over his shoulder. Once he was settled the party began to make their way back down the hallway they had come from. They proceeded at a faster pace now that they had cleared the halls, though they still kept an eye out for anything unusual. The chanting became lighter as they headed back, down to a low murmur they could ignore. They managed to make good time to the crypts, and Lev broke off to head back to the stairs. Kildrik and Irene set to opening the coffins labeled for Gustav and the children, including Walter’s. Kildrik gave it a pat as they prepared it. 

“Lev mentioned it to me a bit back. He wants to lay Maggie’s body here, and Walter’s if we find it and get the chance. The poor woman deserves peace.”

Irene nodded. “Agreed. They didn’t deserve any of this. Gustav Durst...he may have seen the light at the end of it all, but he still helped to cause all of this.” She shook her head. “I just, if I were his child, I don’t know if I could forgive him. But, I suppose that’s not for me to decide. I just wish...” Her hands tightened where they gripped her quarterstaff. “If they truly loved their children, they would do all that they could to protect them, right? Then why get involved with any of this? Why bring it anywhere near their children? Why involve them? Because they will be involved, no matter what they do. It’s not like children are accessories you can just put away when they get too-” Irene cut herself off, turning red. “Sorry. I’ve just-I’ve seen this sort of thing happen before. And it always ends badly.”

“Aye, I know how you mean, lass,” Kildrik patted her arm. “Cults are a nasty business. All we can do is stop what we can, and leave their souls to the gods.”

Irene nodded, turning as Lev returned with the body of the maid and his pack containing the bones of the children. “Let’s lay these pour souls to rest.”

It didn’t take them long to place the four bodies respectively in their respective coffins, the body of Maggie going in Walter’s. No one looked at Mrs. Durst’s. Irene and Kildrik murmured prayers over the filled coffins, touching their holy symbols to the polished, fine wood. Feyre, surprisingly, did something similar. She silently walked up to each coffin, gently touching the surfaces. She said nothing but had a solemn air about her. Halben, Lev, and Kcaj stood a bit away, respectfully silent. When the three had finished, there was a feeling of ease in the air. It was barely felt with the oppressive atmosphere of the house, but it was there.

Kildrik sighed. “Once we cleanse this place, their souls will be fully at peace.”

Irene nodded. “We’ve at least given them this much. Let’s finish it.”

Halben grinned wickedly. “So let’s go kill some more undead freaks. I’m kind of liking this place.” He chuckled and began to walk back down the hall, a solemn Feyre falling in beside him.

“Those two...are quite strange,” Kcaj said as he watched them go. “I am not so sure about them.”

“They are a bit...odd, but they’re here to help. Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.” Irene said, following the pair back down the hallway.

Kcaj shrugged and followed. “As you say, Lady Irene.”

The makeshift funeral done, the party headed back down towards the Durst’s room. The chanting grew louder as they walked, though no more undead emerged to attack them. They slowly made their way to a pair of huge doors, the black finish long ago faded to a dull and chipped gray. Once more, they took up a defensive position and pushed the doors open to reveal a once elaborate chamber. Marble floors and walls that were no doubt polished to shine were dull and caked with dust and grime. There were candelabras dotted about the room, each with lit candles. 

Standing in the center of the room was a tall statue of a man. He stood with his shoulders back, his head held high, his expression regal and imposing. He was dressed in fine clothes and armor bearing a raven crest. One hand rested on the head of a huge dire wolf, while the other held aloft a quartz orb. His eyes stared straight ahead, cold and piercing despite being made of stone. As the party slowly entered, the voices of the cult finally made themselves clear:

HE IS ANCIENT. HE IS THE LAND. HE IS ANCIENT. HE IS THE LAND. 

The chant continued endlessly, coming from every direction at once. Irene shivered, a bit unnerved by what she assumed were the spirits of the cultists. She edged a bit closer to the statue. The man it depicted was handsome enough, though there was something about his expression that made her want to shiver. She spotted something at the base of the statue and knelt to take a look at the words she could see carved into the base. They were the same as the chanting. Irene sneered up at the man. “If I had to guess, this is Strahd.”

“Leader of this damned cult, it looks like,” Kildrik glared disdainfully at the statue. “Probably worshipped him like a God. He was probably some kind of warlock or another spellcaster. Wouldn’t surprise me if he made pacts with unsavory beings.”

“Or maybe he was just some idiot charlatan.” Irene spat. “Those spells and things were complete bullshit. I’ll bet that he lied to them, used them, and manipulated them. I bet he’s long dead by now.”

“Unless he made a deal with something.” Kildrik growled.

“Hm,” Feyre stepped up beside them. “Fools do tend to make deals with beings that too easily use and control them. There are many such fools on any plane.”

“You’d be right about that.” Kildrik nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve known a few warlocks in my time. Most of them good, honest people. But men like this,” he grunted at the statue. “They make me sick.”

Lev stepped forward and plucked the orb from the statue. “True, but at least we can sell this.” He held up the orb, watching it glint in the light.

“Lev!” Irene exclaimed, stepping forward. “That could have been enchanted or booby-trapped!”

“That was foolish, lad!” Kildrik agreed. “I swear, you are trying to kill me!”

Lev shrugged and pocketed the orb. “Meh, I doubt anything like that has held up for this long. Besides, not like the cultists are going to use it. Come on, Halben and I found a passageway.” He motioned and walked over to a corner of the room where the half-elf waited. “We already checked for traps, there was nothing.”

Kcaj walked over. “You two are most skilled at finding these hidden passageways.”

“Meh,” Halben shrugged. “Honestly, if anything it was too obvious. I double-checked for traps because of that. But nope, just looks like a normal hallway. Must lead somewhere important if it’s in this place.”

Irene made another disgusted expression as the party entered what looked like an antechamber. Small alcoves dotted the walls, and inside were jars, scrolls, and various tools. Irene took one look at a pile and threw her hands up in absolute disgust. “It’s downright insulting! This would only intimidate idiots and children! Penny Dreadful bullshit! Ugh! It’s a slap in the face to any decent practicing mage!”

Feyre raised an eyebrow, turning away from a jar with a mummified toad. “You’re insulted...that it’s tasteless fakery?”

“Yes! If you’re going to practice the Art, put some actual work and study into it!”

Lev chuckled and gently elbowed Feyre. “Should have seen her when we found a secret library. It was hilarious.”

Kildrik chuckled. “Arcana and Knowledge clerics do take their studies very seriously.”

Irene blushed and headed to the other door. “Oh haha. Anyway, let’s move on.”

“Indeed, Lady Irene.” Kcaj followed her to the door. “Let us move on from this unpleasantness and finish our task.”

The others chuckled and followed through the other door, down a short hallway that sloped downwards. They soon came to a gate. Beyond it was a room filled with water; the only dry areas were two walkways on either side of the gate and an altar on a raised platform. Though the gate was rusted, Kcaj had little difficulty raising the gate for the others to walk through. 

Irene frowned, carefully making her way through the calf-height water to the raised platform, climbing up beside it. The stone altar was stained with old blood, and a rusted knife lay upon it. From her spot on the platform, she could see into an alcove on the far side of the room. It was full of the remains of bodies. She wanted to be sick.

“Dear gods…” Halben cringed and looked away. “These sick bastards. If it wasn’t for the kids trapped here too, I’d say leave them to their suffering.”

“We’re not leaving their souls to suffer here,” Lev said darkly, his hand tightening on his rapier as he stared at the pile of flesh. “The cultists deserve it, those kids don’t.”

“No kidding,” Halben muttered. “So this looks like where they did their killing. Now, what do we-”

ONE MUST DIE. ONE MUST DIE. ONE MUST DIE. ONE MUST DIE.

The party jumped, drawing their weapons. “Blood and stone!” Kildrik snarled. “Now these damn voices decide to say something else!?”

“One must die. They intend to make us sacrifice one of our number?” Kcaj held up his katana. “That will not happen on my watch.”

“Not one more sacrifice will happen here!” Irene shouted. “We’re putting a stop to this!”

The chanting stopped, and shrieks of rage filled the room. After a moment, several shadow figures began to manifest. A handful appeared along the walls while more manifested outside of the gate. Irene snarled a word and slammed her quarterstaff against the stone platform. The wood shimmered as her magic strengthened it. “Foul bastards!” She screamed and charged forward, her holy symbol glowing with radiant light.

Feyre summoned her scythe, the shadowy smoke swirling about her form as she glared hatefully at the spirits. “You need to rest now. I will gladly aid you.” 

Kildrik snarled and hefted his glowing ax. “Bring it on, you bastards!” He shouted and charged at the nearest shadow. The spirits along the wall sprang forward to attack. The others met them with their own battle cries. As he had before, Halben danced between his opponents with his rapier. Though the sword seemed to do little damage to the spirits. Lev, realizing the same, quickly backed off his opponent, grunting as it managed to slash him. He took a deep breath and whispered something, grinning darkly as the spirit shrieked and flailed. It turned and tried to flee from Lev, only for the bard to stab it through the back with his sword.

Kcaj grunted as he swung at a spirit, frustrated as his sword seemed to do minimal damage to it. “Unnatural thing, begone from this world! You shall find no more victims here!”

“Damn spirits! Murderers!” Kildrik screamed as he sliced a spirit in half. “Die and stay dead! You foul-”

“Gods! What foulness is this!?”

As they dispatched the last of the spirits, the party turned towards Feyre. The woman had stabbed into a spirit that was dissolving back into the ether, but her attention was on the alcove full of body parts...and what was shambling out of it. A mound of moving flesh, grotesque, made of shifting bodies and parts, with a cacophony of voices crying out in pain.

And beneath it all, the distant cry of a baby.

“Oh gods…” Irene said, horrified. “Walter…”

“Those monsters!” Lev snarled, pointing his rapier at the flesh mound. “Faerie fire!” At his words, flashing lights engulfed the thing shambling towards them. The lights were enough to illuminate the chamber further than the dim torches allowed, letting them see the poisoned water around the creature.

Feyre growled and pointed her scythe at the thing. “Die, abomination!” Swirling, purple light erupted from her scythe and shot at the creature, making it shriek louder in pain. It snarled and charged faster towards them. 

“Watch out! It’s poisoned the water around it!” Kcaj cried out as he charged the thing. “I, however, am immune to such things!” He stabbed and sliced at the creature, grunting as it attacked him, shoving him against the platform. Feyre cried out and slashed at the thing from behind, her eyes bright with an odd light. The creature didn’t turn, didn’t need to turn, as a tentacle shot out and grabbed the woman, pulling her into the mound. Feyre cried out and struggled, but was caught by surprise and pulled in.

“Feyre!” Halben yelled, jumping from where he had been on the nearest walkway and landing on the creature, stabbing it with a pair of knives. The flesh mound shrieked and threw the man off. Halben landed with a sickening crack and a groan of pain on the platform.

Irene ran forward, raising her holy symbol. It shone with a bright, radiant light, illuminating the room further. “By the holy light of Mystra, Turn Undead!”

The light grew brighter, flashing, and temporarily blinding those still in the room. The spirits by the gate shrieked and fled, disappearing into the darkness. The mound, once attacking Kcaj still, let out a cry of fear and pain. It fled as far from Irene as it could, pressing itself against the wall as it tried to flee mindlessly. Feyre’s feet kicked weakly from one side. 

Kildrik lunged forward with his ax, slicing into the mound near Feyre. It shrieked louder as the dwarf managed to cut it open, yanking out the gasping and bloody woman. The pair fell back as Kcaj surged forward to attack the mound.

“You alright?” Kildrik helped Feyre to stand. The woman nodded, her eyes haunted. “What did you see in there?”

“I saw its heart. It was crying.” Feyre shook her head and resummoned her scythe. “That poor child.”

Irene thrust her hand forward, calling on the power of her goddess. Bolts of light streaked forward and hit the mound as Kcaj lunged at it, striking with his sword. The flesh mound shrieked and thrashed, then thrashed once more as if under another attack. Lev gave it a hateful glare and whispered again, the mound shrieking in agony. Bits of flesh sloughed off of it with each attack until finally, it went still. More parts sloughed off and fell into the water, slowly revealing the shriveled, crying body of a baby.

“Gods…” Irene’s eyes were full of tears as she stumbled forward. “That’s Walter…”

“Fuck...those sick fucks...that bitch didn’t suffer enough before she died.” Lev hissed, tears falling from his eyes.

Feyre shook her head. “Her soul is receiving comeuppance. Have faith in that.”

“If you say so.” Lev muttered darkly, looking away.

Kcaj was silent as he looked down at the crying remains of the baby. His armor was dented and scratched and he had more than a few stains from the mound. He reached forward and gently touched the thing, murmuring in Giant speech. He then raised his sword and swiftly ended Walter’s suffering. The crying ceased along with the shrieks. The air was completely silent. All at once, a weight was lifted from the atmosphere. The oppressive feeling of being watched was gone, replaced by a solemn emptiness.

“Well...that took care of things, I suppose,” Kildrik said. “This...thing was keeping them all here. A monument to suffering and pain.”

Irene didn’t bother to hide her tears as she gathered up Walter’s body from the mound of flesh. When she spoke, her voice shook and was unsteady. “We ended it...we’re done here. Let’s lay Walter to rest and leave this gods forsaken place.”

Kcaj nodded and patted her shoulder. “I agree, Lady Irene. At least Walter here will suffer no longer. There was nothing that could be done for him. He is no doubt at peace and can be buried with his mother.”

Irene sniffled and nodded. The party made their way out of the horrid chamber, moving quickly to put as much distance between them and the bodies as possible. They stopped only to lay Walter with his mother, only Irene, and Kildrik saying their prayers for them throughout it all. Once that was done, they swiftly made their way to the stairs and back to the attic. Lancelot bounced out of the children’s room, jumping a bit when Irene fell to her knees and sobbed into the dog’s shaggy fur.

“We should get out of this creepy house,” Halben muttered darkly. “We don’t have time to-”

“Hey,” Lev stepped up to him, his own eyes red. “Give us a minute, okay? Then we can leave.”

“N-No, I…” Irene sniffled and stood, rubbing a whining Lancelot’s ears. “I-I’m fine, let’s go. I want to leave too.”

“Don’t rush yourself, lass,” Kildrik assured her. “This was...a hard day.”

Irene shook her head. “I want to leave. Let’s go.” She turned and walked towards the stairs, Lancelot faithfully trotting beside her. The rest of the party followed after a moment. They wasted no time heading for the entrance, the door swinging open easily now that whatever enchantments had been upon it were gone. They stumbled outside, reveling in the air and open space. The sky was still cloudy, but dark enough to let them know that it was approaching evening.

“Gods, that was a nightmare,” Irene said, shivering. “And we still have no idea where the hell we are.”

“Perhaps, Lady Irene,” Kcaj said. “We can rest in one of these smaller buildings and decide where to go tomorrow?”

“I think you’re right, Kcaj.” Irene nodded. “We should get some...sleep?” She stiffened and frowned, glancing toward one of the side buildings. “...That light, it wasn’t there before.”

Lev cursed. “Not another one. It had better not be.”

Kildrik frowned and tilted his head. “I don’t think it is lad...do you smell that?” he stepped closer to the building and sniffed the air, jumping back as the door swung open.

Lancelot perked up and barked happily as the smell of fresh, hot food wafted out. He charged happily forward, his tail wagging. Irene rushed after him, skidding to a stop just inside the building and gaping at the sight before her. “Everyone...come see this.”

A long table rested in the building, clean, and full of food. Hot bread, freshly baked meats, and tankards of cold ale and water filled the room with aromas that made their mouths water. Bright, festive lights decorated the large room that looked to have once been sleeping quarters. Lancelot had managed to nab himself a leg of meat and was chowing down eagerly.

“What in the world...how...am I dreaming?” Lev muttered, his eyes huge.

“If you are, then so are we all. Gods, I’m starving.” Halben said, taking a deep breath and groaning. “I don’t know how, or why, and I don’t care. Let’s eat!”

Kildrik grinned and walked forward to grab himself a chair and a mug. “Agreed! I don’t sense anything evil here, so let’s eat and celebrate being alive!” 

The others cheered, a sort of festive excitement filling them as they gathered around the table. They piled their plates full of food, getting glasses of ale and water and eagerly chowing down. Kcaj stood to the side, having no need of sustenance, watching his companions eat, and cast away some of the dread and gloom from the day’s doings. He took to calmly polishing his sword and tending to his armor, content with the day’s ending.

Irene swallowed a buttery roll with a moan of pleasure. The food tasted nothing short of divine, and there were still plenty more for rations. They would not be going hungry anytime soon. She fed Lancelot another slab of meat, straightening as she saw a light in the nearby corner. Her eyes widened as the light took the familiar form of Maggie. The woman was smiling now her clothes pristine. In her arms, sleeping happily, was a baby swaddled in a thick blanket. Out from behind her peeked two young children, their faces bright and cheerful. The three waved, then vanished. Irene sniffled and smiled, wiped away a tear, and returned to her meal. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, maybe more horrors worse than this. But for now, they had peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This encompasses the first introduction my party had to Barovia lol. Fun, isn't it? The DM uses a lot of homebrew and reddit advice in the campaign to make it fun and interesting. Including what happened with poor Walter. That legit made me cry a bit when we played that session. 
> 
> Next up, the village of Barovia and a few surprises! Hope you guys are enjoying this!


	8. The Village of Barovia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene and the party make it to the village of Barovia, hoping to find answers. They only find more oddities and even more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahahahahaha! This was when my DM pretty much threw us all for a loop.

The party slept well that night. The food had been more than filling, leaving them with renewed vigor and strength. What they hadn’t managed to eat, they packed up into rations for the road. They didn’t know how long it would be until they found anything remotely resembling civilization, but at the very least, they wouldn’t go hungry. Lev had excused himself, slinging his pack over his shoulder and ducking out into the early morning while the rest of them packed up.

“Though gods only know where we are. I spent some time praying before I slept, but…” Irene toyed with her holy symbol. “I can still feel my goddess, her touch, but I can’t…” she bit her lip, the words refusing to come to her.

Kildrik nodded. “Aye, lass, I know what you mean. I couldn’t hear Moradin either. It’s a strange thing. It’s as if...I dunno, as if something is blocking them? No, not quite that. We wouldn’t have our magic if it were. But still, something about this land isn’t right.”

Irene shivered. “I feel the same. Almost as soon as we got here, I knew something wasn’t right. It’s more than our connections to our gods, though. I’m not sure what it is, but something about this land unsettles me, down to my very soul.”

“Whatever it is, we can handle it. Of that, I’m sure. After that horrible house, it can’t get much worse.”

Kcaj made an odd creaking noise. “I am not completely familiar with your sayings, master Kildrik, but that one I am most familiar with,” he shook his head as Irene laughed. “Whenever Lady Irene has said those words, something bad has inevitably occurred.”

“You know what they say about tempting fate.” Feyre grinned.

Kildrik groaned and slapped his forehead. “Me and my big mouth.”

“Let us hope your words do not bring an excess of tragedy, master Kildrik,” Kcaj said as he opened the door and stepped outside. “Though I am confident that we-...the manor is on fire, it would seem.”

“What!?” The party rushed outside, jaws dropping. The Durst manor was burning.

“Blood and stone!” Kildrik yelled, looking around for threats. “What’s going on this time!?”

Halben tilted his head, his eyes narrowing a bit as he peered at the burning manor. “I don’t think this was an attack.”

Irene looked at him confused. Lancelot cowered behind her. “What do you mean?”

Halben shrugged. “Well, that fire is way too controlled to have just been attacked or an accident. Looks to me like it was someone deliberately setting a house on fire. It looks controlled, see how it’s not really spreading?” He pointed towards the outline of the house. The fire licked at the ground but didn’t spread beyond the manor. “This is a controlled fire.”

“But who...oh.” Irene straightened as Lev walked over to the group. His clothes had some dirt and soot on them. “I see.”

Lev shrugged. “The spirits are laid to rest, right?” When Irene and Kildrik nodded, he smiled. “Then who needs this evil place? The way I see it, no one’s coming to claim it. It’s caused too much tragedy already, and the fire won’t spread beyond the house. So, fwoosh.”

Halben chuckled. “I like the way you think. Might as well, yeah?”

“As long as no one will be endangered, I am in agreement, master Lev.” Kcaj nodded and took his hand off of his sword. “This was an evil place and we are well to be rid of it.”

“And I do still have the deeds, so I guess if anyone wants the land…” Irene took out the deeds and peered at them, crinkling her nose. “Ugh, gifted by Lord Strahd Von...Zarovich?” she paused, frowning. “Wait…” She dug out the note signed by the man to Gustav Durst and compared the writing. “This is the same...this Strahd person signed over the land to the Durst’s. I...what?”

“Normally, Lady Irene, that would imply that this Strahd individual owned the lands and gifted them to the Durst family. It would imply that he is, in fact, their lord.” Kcaj interjected.

Irene rolled her eyes. “Oh great, so not only was he lord of this land, he was an evil cult leader too.”

Feyre made a hum. “We may have to...deal with him, at some point.”

“I highly doubt he’s still alive, after all this time. The Dursts have been dead for ages.”

“Ah, but he may not be human. We shouldn’t judge by that statue. He may have been elven, or simply made a deal with something and prolonged his life.” Kildrik offered. 

“True…” Irene conceded. “He certainly seems the type, just going off of what we saw here.” The thought of that man still being around, the possibility of running into him, gave Irene a bone-deep fear that she couldn’t shake. Something about that statue had scared her more than she had been willing to admit. The way it seemed to stare at her...she felt as though she had been staring down a predator that was all too eager to catch her in its claws. If Strahd was still alive, there was a part of her that wanted to face down this monster and demand he face justice for the lives ruined by his hand. But there was another part of her that wanted to run as far away as she possibly could.

“Well, nothing to be done for it now. I say we get on the road. Preferably away from the scary woods.” Lev said, taking off in the opposite direction they had arrived in. The party followed after making sure they had gathered all of their supplies. 

The walk was peaceful enough if silent. No one really seemed to be in the mood to chit chat. Irene glanced at her party, feeling the unease and slight tension. The feast the night previous had given them all a sense of peace and vigor, so the land’s depressing atmosphere wasn’t nearly as heavy as it had been before. But there was still a sense of unease and Irene still felt watched. There was still a feeling of unease, of aimlessness. After all, none of them knew where to go. They had all gathered at the Durst manor because it had been the first thing any of them saw. It had caused their march to halt as they discussed where to go next. 

“We need a more solid direction than ‘opposite of the creepy forest we woke up in.’” Halben insisted. “The sky is still choking with clouds so we can’t really get a direction in this place. If anyone has any bright ideas, I am all for hearing them.”

“Halben does have a point,” Irene conceded. “I’m not that great with directions, to begin with. I’m afraid that I’m totally useless here.”

“Why not that mountain, over there?” Kildrik pointed in the distance. Off a ways from the path they had begun to tread was a large, imposing cliffside. It was dark, and even from this distance, it looked treacherous and unwelcoming. Settled near the top of the cliff seemed to be a castle. “Looks like someplace to go to me. Even if the castle doesn’t welcome us, no doubt there will be a village near it. It’s someplace to start looking, in any case.”

“That place gives me the creeps,” Lev shuddered. “This whole place gives me the creeps.”

“But it is a good starting point. Well done, master Kildrik.” Kcaj began to take off in that direction.

Halben raised an eyebrow as Feyre began to follow. “Is he always like that?”

Lev chuckled. “Ask Irene, she’s known him longer.” He grinned and followed the Warforged with Kildrik. Halben shook his head, murmured something, and tailed along.

Irene slowly began to follow, not wanting to be alone but something in her screamed in terror at the sight of the castle. Her blood felt like ice and her legs struggled to follow her commands. What on earth was going on? She had no reason to fear this place as badly as she did. It was strange, it was unknown, yes. But normally she would not feel such a bone-deep terror. Her curiosity was still there, still itching and eager to unravel the mysteries surrounding this land and their journey here. That was normal for her, that she was used to. But why this fear? She should have a healthy sense of caution, no doubt this Strahd was dangerous. As much as she detested him, she would have to be careful if he was still alive. But this terror...where was it coming from?

The party continued on, each lost in their own thoughts. After a couple of hours of walking, they spotted the signs of a village near the imposing mountain and castle. They immediately changed course and headed for the village. It was about midday when they finally came upon it, though the state of it had them all staring in shock. The buildings had clearly seen better days, battered and worn, some looking as though they were ready to fall over. Almost every single one had their windows boarded up.

“What, are these people expecting a raid?” Lev muttered as they walked into the village. Despite it being about midday, there were few people out on the streets. None of them met their gazes and actively avoided them. Irene looked to the windows and saw that a few were peeking out at them, staring with narrowed eyes and suspicious looks. It made her wonder if Lev was right about them expecting an attack of some kind.

“Surely there has to be someone here who doesn’t look scared to death,” Kildrik muttered. He stopped near a woman who was cleaning her steps with a withered looking broom and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but may I ask you a few questions?”

The woman paused and looked up at them, and Irene’s blood went cold. Her eyes were....utterly blank. They looked dead, with no spark of emotion within them. There was no fear, no suspicion, nothing. She stared at Kildrik for a few moments, utterly silent. A few times she moved her mouth, but no sound came from her. Then she simply turned her head back to her step and continued to sweep. Kildrik slowly backed away from her, a bit pale.

“Blood and stone...how is her heart still beating?”

“Is everyone in this god's forsaken land so creepy?” Halben grimaced. “Okay, that’s it, I’m off. I need to not be here right now.” He grumbled and began to walk away.

“Wait!” Irene called out. “Where are you going? We need to stick together!” Halben ignored her and continued to walk off, turning a corner and vanishing. 

“Oh, he does that, dearie. Never you mind, I’ll see to him,” Feyre smiled at them. “I’m sure we’ll rejoin you soon. That boy can be quite a handful. Stay safe, dears.” She waved and followed Halben, calm and seemingly unconcerned with the weirdness around them.

Lev threw up his hands. “If they want to wander off, let them. If they come back, we can all travel together again. Good luck to them. Can’t say I really blame Halben, though. This is all just too weird for me.”

“Tis foolishness, but they are capable of making their own decisions. Let us move on and attempt to find one that will speak to us.” Kcaj stated.

“We do need information. I hope they stay safe. Maybe if we find an inn or a tavern we-” She paused as she saw a figure coming up the street. It was an elderly woman pushing a cart covered with a tarp. She would stop and knock on doors, calling to whoever was within. No one answered her. She merely shrugged and moved down to the next house. What truly caught Irene’s attention, however, was the woman’s demeanor. Even when being ignored, she smiled cheerfully. She walked with a spring in her step and when she saw the party, her eyes lit up.

“Oh my! Hello, dears!” The old woman greeted as she rolled her cart up to them. “Haven’t seen you around these parts. Welcome to Barovia Village! Can I interest you in my wares?”

“Greetings ma’am,” Kildrik greeted. “Barovia Village, eh? Can’t say I’ve heard of this place before. It’s mighty depressing. Why is everyone so on edge?”

The old woman shrugged. “That’s life, you know? It can be awfully hard, especially here. But I’m sure you-Oh…” her eyes widened. “Oh...you’re outsiders, aren’t you? Well, no wonder you look so lost! Oh, forgive my terrible manners. Just call me Granny. Came via the fog, did you?” She shook her head at their surprise. “I’ve seen this a few times.”

Lev’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly do you mean by all that? Where in hell are we?”

Granny sighed. “You are in the Land of Barovia. Not the village, but the whole land. You see, we’ve had folks like yourselves come by before. See, this whole land is surrounded by a thick mist that no one can pass through. Every once in a while, folks from other lands like yourselves get lost and end up here. Some say the mists seek out folks, some say the Lord of the land does. It’s all just stories, but I’m afraid that the truth is, you’re stuck here.”

Irene frowned. “Great, we’re trapped. Is there any way out? Surely someone has escaped.”

“I’m...admittedly not sure. You’ll want to talk to the Vistani for more.”

“Who’s that?” Lev frowned. “And where are they? Here?”

“Oh, they travel all around,” Granny waved her hand. “They’re traders and the like. Sometimes they come here, or other settlements. Other times they’re in the middle of nowhere. See, the beasts don’t ever attack them so they’re safe. They’re the ones you want to speak to. I’m afraid I can’t help much, I’m just an old woman selling pies.”

“Well, it’s more information than we had before,” Kildrik sighed. “Can I assume the lord lives in that castle up there?” He pointed towards the cliffside and the castle.

Granny shivered and nodded. “He does, but I wouldn’t go there. Not safe, that place is. So!” She clapped her hands together. “Since you’re new, both the mercantile and the inn are down that way,” She pointed down one of the roads. “Inn’s called ‘Blood of the Vine’ and it’s a fine place if you need a room.”

Irene smiled. “Thank you, ma’am, you’re most kind. I don’t have much,” she pulled a few spare coins from her waist. “But how about a pie or two, for your advice?”

Granny smiled brightly and produced five pies. “Oh, you’re too sweet darling! Here, since you’re new to these lands. Have some! These two are apple, the others are a nice meat pie!” She handed them to Irene and took two coins. “And you’re always welcome to ask me more questions! I’m happy to help.” Then she paused and peered at Irene for a moment. “What was your name, girlie?”

“Me? Um, I’m Irene, Granny. It’s lovely to meet you.” Irene smiled, a little put off by Granny’s sudden oddness. “Is there...something wrong?”

Granny smiled. “Oh no, dear. You just looked familiar. That’s all. Well, I’m off then. Need to sell some more pies! Good luck to you all. Do be careful.” She gave them all a bright smile and headed off with her cart.

Irene packed away the pies. “Well, she was...pleasant, if a little strange.”

“Only strange because she’s the first living person we’ve encountered who seemed normal,” Lev sighed. “So, we are in another land altogether. That we already figured, but it looks like we’re trapped here. At least according to Granny.”

“And it sounded like that mist we fell asleep in pops in other lands to nab people unawares.” Kildrik frowned. “Maybe the lord of the land takes people for whatever reason. Probably for the fun of it.”

“Mayhaps we should not jump to conclusions,” Kcaj said. “We have been quite overwhelmed today. I say we should get ourselves some rooms at the inn and figure out our next course of action. It sounds as though we should seek out the Vistani. They may know more than Granny and can better answer our questions.”

Irene nodded. “Good idea, Kcaj. We can rest up, ask some questions, and tomorrow we can visit the mercantile and plan out what to do next.”

Lev nodded. “Sounds solid to me. I like having a solid plan. If we run into Feyre and Halben, we can let them know what’s going on too.”

“Aye,” Kildrik nodded. “But first, to the inn. We have some coin, should buy us a few nights.”

“Sounds good to me.” Irene coaxed Lancelot, who had ducked behind a cart when Granny rolled by, and the party made their way to the inn. The building was in a similar condition as the rest of the town, and the sign had been graffitied at some point. It now read, ‘Blood on the Vine.’ “How morbid…” Irene murmured as they made their way inside. The inn was decently packed, and while the people didn’t seem as avoidant as the others had, they still got quite the number of stares as they made their way to the bar.

“Good afternoon,” Kildrik greeted the man. “Might you have a few rooms available for rent?”

The owner, a tall, broad man, shook his head. “None right now. They’re being cleaned up. If you want to wait, they should be ready for tonight. But they may not be. We’ve...been short-handed around here.” He fidgeted, looking uncomfortable.

“Aye, we can understand that,” Kildrik nodded. “We’ll grab a table and wait, then. If that’s alright.” 

The man nodded and the party began to move toward a small cluster of unoccupied tables. “All this staring is getting on my nerves,” Kildrik muttered. “And everyone is so on edge. It’s making my skin crawl.”

Lev smiled and brought out his violin. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll have them smiling. Guaranteed.”

“Perhaps some good music can lift the dreadful spirits here, master Lev.” Kcaj nodded. “I, for one, would welcome a happier atmosphere.”

“Wouldn’t we all.”

Irene jumped and spun around towards the voice. A tall man had approached the group. He was broad-shouldered, muscular, and wearing somewhat finer clothing than what they had seen on people thus far. His thick, blond hair fell to his shoulders and his eyes were a piercing blue. “Can we help you, sir?” 

The man motioned to a nearby table. “Care to join me for a few drinks? I have an offer for you if you’re keen.”

Lev grinned. “You provide the drinks and we’ll take a listen.” He said, plopping down in a chair.

“That’s all I can ask for.” The man nodded in thanks and took a seat, motioning to the bartender. The table he had chosen was tucked away in a corner of the inn, away from the occupied tables. “I ask that you keep your voices low. I’d prefer if this conversation stays between us.”

“Any particular reason, good sir?” Kcaj asked as he took up sentry beside the table. 

The man began to speak, only to go silent as the bartender brought over a few glasses and a jug of wine. Only when he left did the man speak again. “I’ll speak plainly. There are spies everywhere, enough that I’ll tell you my offer now, and give you the details later at my home if you agree.”

Irene frowned. “You want us to do something but won’t tell us what it is?” She took the offered wine cup but didn’t drink.

The man fidgeted, not looking directly at her. “It’s...complicated. The details I will give you if you agree. But you have to understand, this place isn’t safe. And I take the safety of my sister very seriously.”

“Your sister?” Kildrik asked. “Is your sister in some kind of trouble?”

“And who are you, anyway?” Lev asked, sipping the wine. “We don’t even know your name.”

“Ismark Kolyanavich. I am the...former Burgomeister’s son. Which makes me the current Burgomeister. The mayor, if you’re unfamiliar with the term. I figured you might be since you’re outsiders.”

“You’d be right about that.” Lev drank some more wine. “Okay, so you’re the guy in charge. And spies are after you and your sister?”

“Like I said,” Ismark grumbled. “It’s complicated. As for my deal, I offer you room and board for tonight. My home is probably one of the safest here in the village. In return, I ask that you help me with a task tomorrow and consider another one. That one, I will give you more details at my home.”

Irene frowned. “What tasks, exactly?”

Ismark squirmed and again didn’t exactly look at her. “I need your help burying my father. He died only two days ago, and my sister and I haven’t had time to bury him. The second we’ll talk about at my home. Please,” Irene was startled to see his expression become desperate. “At least come to hear me out. Things are too dangerous here and I don’t know where else to turn to. You’re outsiders and complete strangers to me, but I’d trust you over anyone else right now.”

The party was silent, staring at Ismark with wide eyes. “Well,” Kildrik finally said. “I...that sounds like you’re in quite the conundrum, lad. Alright,” He nodded. “I’ll at least come to hear you out. You sound mighty desperate, and I’d like to help if I can.”

“As will I.”

“I will go wherever Lady Irene goes.” Kcaj said firmly, his opinion stated.

Lev shrugged. “Count me in, too. You’ve got a deal, Ismark.”

The man looked ready to collapse out of relief. “Thank the gods. Let’s go then,” He stood from his chair. “No time to waste. We need to get you inside before dark anyway.” He paused and pointed at Lancelot. “Is that your dog?”

Irene rubbed the dog’s ears. “We found him and he’s been traveling with us. I don’t think it’ll be safe to continue to bring him, though. Do you know a safe place for him?”

“I might. Let’s get to my house and we can see all of this.” Ismark nodded towards the door and headed out, the party following behind him. Ismark seemed to be watching out for everything around him, his eyes dark and narrowed as he made his way through the streets, avoiding as many people as possible. Until eventually he brought the party to a large home a bit further from the others. 

Irene halted, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of it. Like the others, the windows were boarded up and it looked like it had seen better days. But unlike the others, it had signs of battle almost everywhere. There were gouges in the lawn that looked to have been made by creatures, in addition to the various claw marks on the walls and around the boarded windows. In a few places, there was dried blood.

“What happened here?” Kildrik looked around. “All of you keep acting like you’re about to be attacked. What exactly is attacking you?”

Ismark winced and walked up to the door. “That’s...going to be part of it.” He raised his hand to knock, only to pause and turn to Irene, finally looking at her. Though he looked far from comfortable. “By the way...are you wearing a disguise? I’m not trying to be rude, but…”

Irene frowned, utterly confused. She slowly looked down at her scale mail, pack, and quarterstaff, utterly befuddled. “No...I typically wear this...are you unused to female warriors?”

“No, just-” Ismark sighed. “You’ll see soon enough.” He turned back to the door and knocked in a pattern. “Sister, it’s me, it’s Ismark. I’ve brought help.”

The door opened a tiny crack, then slammed closed again. “Ismark!” cried a distinctly feminine voice from within. She sounded angry and afraid. “What is that thing!?”

Lev and Kildrik chuckled while Irene sighed. She was more than used to this reaction to Kcaj, who took it in stride. “He’s a Warforged.” She said calmly. “He’s a friend, and will not harm anyone. He does not attack the innocent.”

“Er, yes. The metal man is what they call a Warforged and-” Ismark started, trying to calm his sister.

“I don’t care about that, Ismark!” Came the voice of the young woman again. “What is that thing, and why does it look like me!? What strange hell have you brought to our door!?”

“Wait...what?” Lev frowned. “So...what?”

“The hell is going on?” Irene was completely confused at this point. “What is she talking about?”

“Ireena,” Ismark said with a tired sigh ignoring the looks he was getting. “I know this is strange, believe me, but they came into the inn without being invited and they don’t seem like his minions. I know it’s a lot to ask, but who knows when the next outsiders will arrive. Just, please sister, let’s give this a chance.”

“What on earth is going on?” Kcaj asked, tilting his head in confusion. “This is...different than what I had expected.”

“You and me both,” Irene muttered. “What is going on here?”

There was a moment of silence, and the door slowly swung open. Irene’s jaw dropped and her eyes went huge. Beside her, Lev and Kildrik made odd choking noises and sputtered.

“Huh,” Kcaj said after a moment, looking between the young woman at the door and Irene. “Lady Irene, I did not know you were born a twin.”


	9. The Doppelganger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene comes face to face with...an interesting looking individual.

Irene stared. It was all she could do. Her body refused to move from the shock of what she was seeing. Standing just inside the house was a young woman who looked exactly like her. The eyes and the shade of red hair, their height, and dusky skin, if the young woman didn’t look incredibly uncomfortable and disturbed at seeing Irene, she would have sworn that she was looking in a mirror. She managed to turn her head to Ismark, who had stepped inside the house. “What did you do to that wine?”

“Huh, or perhaps have you duplicated yourself?” Kcaj asked, tilting his head. “I do not recall you mentioning a sibling in our years together. You are a student of the Art, is this some kind of spell?”

“There is a spell that can do that, but I’m not that skilled. Ismark, what was in that wine that I drank?”

The young woman, Ireena, snorted. “At least the beast seems as confused as I am.”

“Beast!?” Irene sputtered indignantly. “I should be calling you that! For all I know, you’re some kind of changeling!”

“Please, everyone stay calm,” Ismark pleaded as he and Ireena stepped away from the door. “Sister, these are the first outsiders that have come here in such a long time. It could be years until the next ones, and who knows what could happen in the meantime. Believe me, I know this is strange…”

“To say the least!” Irene stormed in, frowning. “Just what in the name of Mystra is going on here!?” She looked between the two siblings, some of her indignant rage melting into further confusion when she saw how relieved the two siblings looked.

“Can this place get any more confusing?” Lev asked as he walked in, the others following behind. “What’s with the doppelganger thing, and why do you two look like you’re about to fall over?”

Ismark shook his head and walked over to lock the door. “We just had to make sure. But you all walked in with no problems. That’s a good sign.”

Kildrik frowned. “I didn’t sense no magic on the door.”

“Me either,” Irene frowned and made a small gesture with her hand. “There’s no magic anywhere in this house.”

“It’s just a house, but you came in without invitations. Now we know you aren’t vampires.”

The party was silent, turning as one to stare at Ismark with blank faces. “...I’m sorry,” Lev shook his head. “Did you say, ‘vampires?’ As in...drink your blood, turn into bats, walking undead, those vampires?”

Kcaj made a noise akin to snorting. “If you wish for our aid, sir Ismark, you would be better off trying to convince us that you were instead made of solid gold charmed to act like a man,” he turned to the door. “I am not amused by childish tales of fantasy beasts.”

Ireena glared. “Childish tales and fantasy beasts haven’t been tormenting our home and they haven’t killed my father.” 

Kcaj paused, his hand on the door. After a moment, he spoke. “I am sorry for your loss, madame. But our help can simply be asked for in terms of burying your father. Your brother here alluded to further trouble that required our aid. However, if it is with monsters from children’s stories then-”

“Actually, Kcaj,” Irene interrupted. “Remember that we are on another plane if Granny has told us the truth. They may have beasts and things here that don’t exist on other planes. However, vampires do exist on our plane.”

“Okay, now I’ve heard everything,” Lev muttered. “Please tell me you aren’t buying this.”

“While they are not exactly common, especially on our continent, there are records of vampires existing. They do exist, along with other creatures more often seen in stories, such as werewolves and the like. The records are...sparse, but they do exist.”

“Aye,” Kildrik nodded. “My order has faced such things in other places on our plane. They’re dangerous, but not unkillable and quite real.”

“And they are definitely real here,” Ismark grumbled. “They attack the village at night, often for weeks and then leaving us go for a while before starting up again. If you’ve seen the boarded-up windows and doors around, that’s why.”

Lev frowned. “Okay, so what I’ve read about vampires, they’re supposed to be ridiculously strong. What’s stopping them from tearing this town apart?”

“They can’t enter a home without an invitation,” Ireena said. “That’s why we didn’t say anything and just let you walk in. We had to make sure that you weren’t spawn. Normally, they wouldn’t be out in the daytime, but you can’t be too careful nowadays.”

“And it isn’t as though the sun is shining,” Kildrik grumbled. “Is the sky always like it is?”

“It is,” Ismark growled. “All thanks to the Lord of this land. The sun hasn’t shined in these lands in centuries and he likes it that way. But, by some small mercy, vampires are still inactive during the day so we at least have some peace from the beasts. They only attack at night, though these last few nights we have had some peace from them. The only continuous nightly occurrence is the March of the Dead.”

Irene frowned. “The...what?”

“The March of the Dead. It happens every night. The spirits of travelers and all others who have died fighting against that monster gather and travel to Ravenloft, the castle on the mountain. They march up to it and hurl themselves from that great height. It must amuse that son of a bitch.” He snarled, looking out of the window towards the dark castle.

“You say that others have fought against him? There have been uprisings? Have they all been outsiders?”

Ismark shook his head. “Not all of them, I’m sure. There have been others who haven’t risen up, who have simply made their homes here in Barovia. Others in the March have been villagers, people who simply want to be free from the villainy of their lord.”

“A lord that has ruled for centuries?” Lev asked. “What is he, then? Certainly not human.”

Ireena shrugged. “Maybe he was one, once. But now, he’s just a monster who takes his delight in terrorizing people, killing and using them as his personal amusement,” Ireena shivered, a haunted look in her eyes. “Of course, there are those who worship that beast as a god in exchange for dark gifts.”

“Of course, it always ends up poorly for them. That’s what you get for worshipping that devil.” Ismark growled.

Irene felt something in her go very cold as a few pieces started to click together for her. “This lord...is his name, Strahd Von Zarovich?”

Ireena and Ismark both went still, shivering. Ismark gave her a cold look. “Yes, but I ask you not to speak that monster’s name. I don’t want to draw his attentions here any more than they already are.”

“Is that not the being the cult at the Durst home worshipped?” Kcaj asked, turning away from the door at last. 

“I think so,” Kildrik nodded. “I guess we were partly right, he sounds as though he made a deal with something for quite a bit of power. Enough to rule this land and even control the clouds to blot out the sun,” He frowned. “This lord, is he a vampire as well?”

Ireena shivered and seemed to hunch in on herself. “He...he is. Hells, he’s the source of them all in this land. He has powers too, powers no other being has. I don’t know if he is a god but…”

Ismark walked over and drew her into a hug. “It’s going to be alright. I swore to keep you safe however I could. Ever since father found you. I promise, sister.”

Irene frowned. “This Stra-this man, is he after you?”

Ireena winced but nodded. “He is, and I don’t know why,” She shivered. “I don’t know why he’s taken an interest in me. To my knowledge, I’ve committed no slight against him, I’ve broken no laws. There are...stories of him taking interest in young men and women but,” she shook her head. “All I know is that for whatever reason, because of me he’s sent monsters to attack our home, which caused the death of the only man I’ve known as a father.”

“That was that foul devil's doing, not yours,” Ismark stated firmly. “That monster killed him. And I swear that one day you will be free of him.”

Kildrik hummed in thought. “Could be any number of reasons, really. Unless we ask him, we won’t know for sure why he’s after your sister. Though, after what we saw at the Durst home, and just the state of this place, I’m in no hurry to go marching up to his home to ask questions.”

“He’d likely kill you for the asking,” Ismark growled. “That monster values mortal life only as food for him and his twisted spawn. Or how we can best amuse him.”

“He sounds indeed like an evil tyrant,” Kcaj said, stepping forward. “This land would best be rid of him if he causes so much despair and death.”

“Good luck killing a god.” Ireena shivered. 

Irene shook her head. “I highly doubt he’s a god. Maybe some kind of warlock. It sounds like he made a pact with some dark power. I doubt he’s truly immortal.”

Ismark snorted. “No one’s managed to kill him yet. Not that anyone would be upset if someone did kill him.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind, after what happened with the Dursts.” Irene grumbled.

“You keep mentioning them. Who are these ‘Dursts?’” Ismark asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Basically, these rich people who worshipped this lord of yours. Looks like they were into some messed up magic. They were looking for this guy’s favor and didn’t get it. They ended up as evil spirits and zombies, so we beat them and burned down the manor.” Lev shrugged. “That was yesterday.”

“Like you do, I suppose,” Ireena said with a raised eyebrow. “Is burning down haunted manors your hobby?”

Lev grinned. “I might take it up. It was pretty fun.”

Ismark stepped forward. “Shall we get to business? I did ask you here for a reason.”

Kcaj nodded. “Indeed. Let us get down to business. You did state at the bar that you wished us to help you bury your father?”

Ismark nodded and motioned to a coffin sitting at the back of the house. “Yes. The local graveyard is on the other side of the village. It isn’t exactly far away, but with everything going on, I didn’t want to risk my sister’s safety and have her help me. So far, staying indoors has been the safest for her. Also, if I go on, my own, there’s the chance one of that monster’s spies will do something to me to get to Ireena. And I will not let that happen.”

Irene frowned in thought. “Does this lord have some kind of grudge against you? Or your family?”

Ireena shrugged. “As far as I know, I’ve done nothing. If he has a grudge against my birth family, then I have no idea as to why. I have no memories of them whatsoever. Maybe he’s just picked on me to torment. I just don’t know.”

“In any case,” Ismark said. “That’s the second favor I would ask of you. After you help me bury my father, I would ask that you escort my sister to the town of Vallaki.”

“Vallaki? Why there?”

“It’s well guarded, and according to all of the stories, it’s been protected from that monster for at least 100 years. The church there is said to be blessed and protected from such vile beasts. If nothing else, Vallaki has to be better fortified than the village. As I’m sure you saw it’s not exactly the safest place in Barovia.” Ismark grimaced.

“So, you want us to help you bury your father, and escort your sister to what you hope is a safer place than this dreary village, yeah?” Lev asked. “Will you be coming with us?”

Ismark’s expression fell as did Ireena’s. “Unfortunately, no. I love my sister, I would face down that monster myself if that would ensure her safety. But I can’t, not for this. I have to stay here. Ireena wouldn’t be safe with me, and I need to stay here for the people.”

Lev raised an eyebrow. “So you’re trusting your sister to some people you just met?”

“If I had any other choice, I would gladly jump on it. But I don’t,” Ismark growled. “I...I have to get Ireena out of this village, to get her somewhere safe. But I can’t do that myself. So, yes. I’m trusting you. You do seem like good people...odd lookalikes notwithstanding.”

Irene rolled her eyes. “It’s not as though I chose my appearance,” She grumbled. “Though...I suppose if it came down to it, I would make a good distraction.”

Kcaj made a small grinding noise. “I would greatly appreciate it if you did not place yourself in deliberate danger, Lady Irene.”

Irene chuckled. “Well, we may not have a choice, my friend. If we’re going to escort Ireena, and she’s got a target on her back, I like to think of contingencies that would help.”

Ismark perked up a bit. “You’ll help us, then?”

Kildrik nodded. “Oh, aye. We would gladly help. And maybe along the way, we’ll get some answers for ourselves. This has all been...quite the head-scratcher.”

“Welcome to Barovia.” Ismark chuckled darkly. “Thank you, all of you. We greatly appreciate your help. And of course, you are more than welcome to spend the night. We have limited supplies, but you are more than welcome.”

“We have some of our own, no need to spread yourselves thin,” Irene insisted. “Tomorrow we will help you bury your father, and do some prepping for the journey to Vallaki. We should probably try to leave as soon as possible, but we don’t want to be underprepared.” she idly scratched Lancelot’s ears.

Ireena tilted her head. “Where did you get a dog?”

“Lancelot? Oh, we found him in the Durst home. Poor thing was hiding. We have no idea who his owner is.”

Ismark hummed a bit. “If you like, I can watch over him when you go. He doesn’t seem like an attack dog, and I think I may know who his owner is.”

Irene perked up. “Someone in this village?”

Ismark nodded. “An older woman called ‘Mad Mary.’ She’s...not exactly in the best mindset. I think that dog belonged to her daughter, Gertruda. Poor thing went missing a while back, and her mother’s been...worse than usual. So she’s not in the best state of mind. But I can take care of him when you go.”

“Thank you,” Irene nodded. “I adore Lancelot, but he is much safer here.”

Kildrik rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get settled in for the night. It’s getting dark, so we should be remaining indoors.”

There was a general noise of agreement and the party began to make themselves comfortable within the main room. Ismark had the fire going strong, keeping the room quite warm. Kcaj took sentry by the door, polishing himself and his sword as was his habit. Lev and Kildrik set up their bedrolls and pulled out an old and worn deck of cards to play with, cheerfully making jabs at one another while snacking on some of the feast leftovers. 

Irene set herself up by one of the walls, laying out her things and going through the things they had discovered in the Durst home. The alchemist fire was placed to one side while she went through the other things. One of the blank spellbooks rested in her lap as she jotted down notes and details of their strange journey thus far. She had always kept notebooks detailing interesting finds, notes about her studies, and anything else she found to be useful. It was one of the few habits from her childhood that she appreciated having.

It was while she was examining a cloak that she had randomly grabbed at the Durst house that she heard someone beside her. She turned and looked up to see Ireena, fidgeting, and looking somewhat uncomfortable. 

“Hi...um...Irene, right?”

Irene smiled kindly up at her. “Yes. Irene Aretruess. Despite all the weirdness, it is good to meet you, Ireena. Though I don’t doubt that even my similar name makes this all that much weirder.”

“To put it lightly,” Ireena muttered. “I mean, I knew Ismark was hoping to find sympathetic outsiders to help, we are getting desperate and all. But I didn’t expect to find my doppelganger.”

“I can’t say I expected it either. None of this was what I expected. I was on a caravan as security, we fell asleep in the woods, and some of us ended up here. There were two others, but they broke away a bit back. This has been getting to us all, sadly.” 

Ireena sighed sadly. “Yeah...that’s Barovia for you. May I sit?” she gestured to the spot beside Irene, kneeling when she nodded. “Monsters and despair, that’s Barovia. Even some of the people reflect it. It’s like...like they’re born without souls. At least, that’s what Ismark says. They just go about life with blank eyes and no emotion, as if they were born without any hope at all.”

Irene shivered. “That’s certainly...dreary. But, what little I have seen has not been promising. It must all seem so much worse when the lord of it all is after you.” She looked at Ireena. “And you’re sure that you don’t know why he is after you?”

Ireena went pale and shook her head. “I have no idea. As I said, there are stories where he takes...an interest in someone. But I have no idea why it’s me. It makes me sick to think that he has any kind of interest in me. That fact in of itself has given me nightmares. And…” she bit her lip, looking anxious and a little nauseous. After a moment she lifted her dark red hair and pulled down her shirt to reveal two nasty looking bite marks on her neck.

Irene’s eyes went huge and she leaned forward. “Dear gods...he’s attacked you?”

“Twice now,” Ireena said softly, covering them back up. “I don’t remember anything about when they happened, either. I just...woke up with them. And I felt tired, drained. So he has taken my blood at least twice now. Thankfully,” she said with a scared little laugh. “It seems like being turned takes more than just that. Thank the gods.”

Irene turned and gently grasped Ireena’s hands. “He will not have you again. We will get you to safety, Ireena. I know we only just met, and that this whole...that this is strange, but we will protect you. What little I know about this monster tells me that he is a vile, evil thing that should be destroyed. I would gladly try to do so. But in the meantime, I will help protect you, I promise.”

Ireena blinked, her eyes wide. “Um...thank you.” She managed a small smile before standing. “I should get to bed. Good night, Irene.”

“Goodnight, Ireena.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit of a funny story! I had never played Curse of Strahd before my current game. I had meant to look it up but never got around to it, so all I knew about it was that there was a BBEG named Strahd and that it was essentially gothic horror and full of vampires and werewolves. I knew nothing else about it, and when my boyfriend wanted to DM it, I agreed to not look anything up so that I could be surprised by it. Half of my party has played before, so my BF has been using edits and stuff thanks to Reddit and the internet so that he can tie all our characters to the story. 
> 
> So, during character creation, I decided to play a cleric, since we needed one lol. I went with Arcana for backstory reasons and started to craft my OC and her backstory. I went with the name "Irene" because all my DnD OCS are based on book characters and I chose that name from the Invisible Library book series by Genevieve Cogman (seriously go read them, they're awesome!). I then was looking up character art and didn't really like what I was finding for females until I came to a few that I liked. When I presented my character to my BF, he thought about it and after a bit, told me that somehow, through sheer chance, I had created an OC with a similar enough appearance and name to an important NPC in the game that they could be twins.
> 
> We talked about options while he tried to keep things as spoiler-free as possible, but also letting me know that "hey, this person is being stalked by Strahd and I don't want you to be surprised and made uncomfortable by it." We eventually decided to go with keeping Ireena in the story, but that somehow my OC looked exactly like her for some strange reason. My BF has been developing the reason behind the scenes, though he is keeping it secret for now lol. I am cool with that because I want to see what he comes up with. I can't wait to see what he comes up with! Thus began the journey of my OC Irene, and the mystery of her doppelganger!


	10. A Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party helps to bury a stranger, and investigates a church.

“Oh my gods, this is delicious!” Lev groaned as he swallowed the rest of his pie whole. They had begun to settle down for the night and set up watches. Ismark and Ireena both went to bed, leaving the small party alone in the house. Kcaj had volunteered for the first watch, remaining in his station in front of the door. The others were helping themselves to rations before heading to bed, with Irene scheduled for the third watch. Kildrik had gone to bed early as he had second, leaving Lev and Irene to try the meat pies they had bought from Granny.

Irene moaned in pleasure as she practically inhaled hers. “What does she make them with? I need this recipe!”

Lev licked his lips as he looked at the three remaining pies. “I don’t know, but I could eat myself to death on these.”

Irene chuckled and only barely managed to put the others away before she and Lev tore into them. “Another time. We need to get some sleep,” She yawned and lied down on her bedroll. “For once, I’m actually feeling tired.”

“Meh, could just be everything that’s happened swarming upon you at once,” Lev remarked as he lounged on his bedroll. “Everything in the Durst house, finding out we’re on another plane and trapped here, finding out that it’s ruled by an evil tyrant. Oh, and there’s your mysterious twin. I’d be surprised if you weren’t tired.” He yawned.

“I suppose,” Irene chuckled and yawned. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ll figure it out. Good night, Lev.” She turned on her side and snuggled into her blanket, drifting off into peaceful slumber.

Once, as a youth, Irene had looked into the meaning of dreams. She had always thought hers to be strange and a little scary, and her mind sought to decode them. As a child, she remembered dreaming of castles and faraway lands, as any child, she supposed. Sometimes, she would dream of great beasts coming to swallow her whole and take her away. They frightened her, and she would wake up screaming in the middle of the night as it swooped down upon her with great claws and sharp teeth seeking her blood. It always felt so real to her, as if the monster was really there.

She would try to change it, try to fight, or kill it. But somehow, it was as if it knew what she would try and always she would be forced to flee from it, terror filling her heart. Sometimes, a dark part of her wanted to know what would happen if the beast caught her in its claws if it managed to reach its prize. It was a strange dream, and she never did find out what it meant or if she could change it. Her parents discouraged such things rather forcefully, and as she grew older the dreams became more distant. Now, she supposed, she could more easily associate them with the beasts she had seen and faced. She had just been a child with an active imagination.

This particular dream felt similar to that, how real it all felt. She was back in the bookshop where she first met Alistair, the priest who had introduced her to her Goddess. Mystra was not commonly worshipped where she was from, so she had never heard of the goddess except in sparse passages discussing the arcane. Alistair had introduced her to the faith, had helped set her on a path that felt more right to her than anything else she had ever known. She could see him sorting through a bookshelf with his usual, kind smile. She could smell the scent of old books, well-tended, and rich with knowledge. It was more home to her than anything else. 

Waking up from the dream for her watch was a chore. She yawned, feeling miserable and a little cranky. She nodded to Kildrik and plopped herself beside Kcaj, staring out of the window. “Anything interesting?” She asked with a yawn.

Kcaj shrugged. “Naught but the March, according to master Kildrik.”

Suddenly feeling more awake, Irene shook her head and looked outside, her eyes widening. It was indeed a march, a disturbing parade of eerie, green spirits. They looked to be in various states of death, many of them mauled by great beasts or with throats torn out. They marched with solemn faces, the expression of those who know that they are doomed. It made her skin crawl and she looked away. 

“Dear gods...there must be something we can do for them.”

“According to master Kildrik, there is powerful necromancy at work. He attempted from here to discover something of the March, and it was too powerful for him.”

Irene paled. “Gods...well, perhaps not now then, but someday, hopefully. It may have something to do with Strahd. Something tells me everything in this land is tied to him in some way.”

“It could be so, Lady Irene. Perhaps we will be lucky enough to slay this evil man.”

“Maybe, Kcaj, maybe.” Irene fell silent, sitting beside her friend. The watch went by without much event, save for the watch. Irene had watched for a bit, as the procession made its way towards the castle on the cliff. She swore that she could hear screams echoing even at this distance. Irene took the time to write more in the book she had appropriated as a journal. Writing down her thoughts had always helped before. Even with as scattered as her thought were now, it was still true. 

She had so many questions. How had they gotten here? Who, or what, pulled them here, and why? Were they simply toys of amusement for some dark power? Was it Strahd? What was he? Why did he chase after a seemingly normal woman? And speaking of Ireena, why did they share an appearance? While Irene was mostly leaning towards simple random happenstance, her mind couldn’t help but wonder if any other possibilities. If there was something pulling the strings behind their appearance, did it also have something to do with all of this? 

She wrote down numerous theories, many of them shabby and easily disproven, but without more clues to anything, she was unlikely to think of anything else. There was definitely something bigger going on, of that she was sure of. 

The night passed without incident or attack, and by dawn, everyone was awake and eating breakfast. Lev was scarfing down another pie, and so was Irene. “We need to buy more of these,” Lev said through a mouth full of pie. “Delicious!”

Kildrik chuckled. “First we take care of business and see to getting supplies. Then we can find Granny again. Business first, lad.”

“If you please,” Ismark nodded. “I’d like to get my father buried as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” Irene nodded. “We are happy to help. After, we will see gathering supplies for the road. We want to make sure your sister will be safe with us.”

Ismark nodded, looking grateful. “Thank you. I know it’s a lot to ask, and it’s an...unusual situation. But thank you.”

Not long after breakfast, the party was preparing to depart for the graveyard. Kcaj, Ismark, Kildrik, and Irene carried the coffin, with Lev on lookout duty. Ireena would stay behind with Lancelot, the goofy dog seeming just as taken with her as he was with Irene. They headed out into the dreary, Barovian morning. The village seemed just as depressing and dismal as it had the day before. None looked in their direction save for a brief glance and a look of sympathy for the late Burgomeister. 

After about an hour of walking, Lev fell into step beside Ismark and leaned over to him. “Behind us, a man’s been following us for at least ten minutes. Average height, dark hair, has a weird look to him. Any clues? One of those spies?”

Ismark sighed. “There are always spies around,” He glanced back briefly. “I know him. Kevin. A simple enough man, harmless enough. I don’t know why he would be following us.”

“I’ll take care if it. No killing, promise,” Lev grinned and fell back a few steps, casually trailing behind just enough to make it look natural. After a while he spun, facing the odd man who had been following them. He smiled brightly and held out his arms. “Good morning friend! Fine day, is it not?”

The man, Kevin, scrambled to a stop, staring at Lev with wide eyes. When the half-elf took half a step towards him, he turned and ran in the opposite direction. Lev snorted. “Chicken. It’s taken care of, though.” He shrugged and rejoined his companions. Kildrik was chuckling, and surprisingly enough, so was Ismark. Lev grinned and bowed. “Hope you all enjoyed the show.”

“Well done, master Lev,” Kcaj nodded. “Perhaps later we can find this man to ask him why he was following us.”

Ismark shook his head. “Don’t bother. That devil has numerous spies, and most of them could just be here to fill us with paranoia than to get anything from us.” He shrugged. “Dismal, but that’s the way it is. Come on, we’re almost to the graveyard.”

Clear on the other side of the village was indeed a rather large graveyard. Seated amongst it all was an old, clearly worn down church. The iconography was nothing Irene recognized, though the bell was in good enough condition to ring out every so often. It looked abandoned and ready to fall apart. Irene shivered. She could feel no blessing upon the ground, no sign of any holy presence. 

“Ismark, who is worshipped he-” Irene was cut off by a horrific scream coming from the church. The party startled, managing not to drop the coffin but turning to stare in horror at the church. “What in Mystra’s name was that!?”

Ismark sighed. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

Irene turned to him, gaping. “Are you serious!? That scream-”

“I haven’t survived as long as I have by sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong,” Ismark gave her a cold stare. “It’s horrid. Yes, I will not refute that. But it’s hardly anything new to anyone living here. This sound is nothing new to us, we hear it just about every night, and more besides. We have lived this long by doing all that we can to survive, and that includes not poking into things best left alone.”

“I...you…”

“Come on, we need to bury my father.” Ismark turned and they resumed the walk. Irene stared at the back of Ismark’s head, her thoughts churning. But she kept her silence, as her companions seemed apt to do. She didn’t know what to think of such a dreadful worldview. But then again, when your home and family was constantly hunted by dark beings, what could you do? When your Lord seemed to be a dark god causing terror for untold centuries, what other views could one have?

They reached an open plot of land and got to digging, soon enough creating a hole large enough for the coffin. They stood awkwardly around it after lowering it in, no one seemed sure of what to say. Until finally, Lev pulled out his violin and began to play a sad melody, the sound echoing strangely in the graveyard. Ismark cleared his throat, seemingly emboldened by the music, and began to speak.

“My, my father was a good man. He tried to do right by his family, by the people of this village. He did his best for me, and Ireena. He wanted so much to protect her, ever since the day he found her wandering the mists. Even with monsters attacking us, he never gave her up. I promise, father, I will do my best to protect these people and Ireena. I swear it.”

Irene stepped forward a bit. “If I may, Ismark?” At his nod, she continued. “Sir, I have only known your children for about a day, yet I can tell that Ismark is a good man. I promise you, we will do all that we can for them. It may not be much, but I promise that we will help. May your soul rest in peace.” As Irene finished her small speech, Lev let the music slowly fade. Shortly after, another scream echoed through the graveyard. Ismark simply began to fill the grave.

“Master Ismark,” Kcaj said as he helped the man fill the grave. “I am going to investigate the church. I cannot, in good conscience, ignore the suffering of others. Those screams indicate such, I will stop it from continuing.”

“Aye, we can’t just ignore it, my boy,” Kildrik nodded. “We’ll check it out, and come back when we are done. I promise we’ll still escort Ireena to Vallaki. But we need to check out that screaming and see what we can do. We cannot just turn away.”

Ismark sighed and shook his head, his shoulders slumped and his expression looking a bit defeated. “I can’t stop you if you want to go. Just...don’t say I didn’t warn you. I still say it is best left alone, but I can’t stop you. Return before dark, please. I want to get Ireena out of here as soon as possible.” He nodded to them, then turned and walked away, heading back towards town.

“Before dark? I guess that story about vamps is true.” Lev murmured.

Kildrik nodded. “Oh, indeed. Sunlight is deadly to vampires, as is silver and radiant magic. Good thing you have two casters who specialize in it.” he chuckled, then straightened and turned to the church. “Shall we?”

Kcaj nodded. “Indeed, master Kildrik. Let us investigate the source of the screaming.” 

Together, the party headed up the steps to the church and ventured inside, the door creaking as they opened it. It was empty, the inside looking nearly as despondent and worn as the outside. There was a single man dressed in robes and praying at the altar. Above it was an old and worn mosaic depicting something bathed in the morning light. He didn’t seem to notice the party, didn’t stop in his praying even as they approached.

“Excuse me, sir?” Irene gently said, laying her hand on the man’s shoulder. The man stiffened but didn’t look up. “Please sir, we heard the screaming and we want to know if someone needs help. We’re outsiders, yes, but we’d like to help if we can.”

The priest seemed to sag in despair and finally stood, facing the party. He was a man of about middle age, with scraggly white hair and looking as though he had aged quite quickly in a short time. There were bags under his eyes and he looked too thin. “Greetings, travelers. I am Father Donovich. You honor me and the Morning Lord with your generosity, but I’m afraid there is nothing you can do for anyone here.”

“Sir, we’ve heard the screaming. Someone here needs help, we know it.” Kildrik insisted.

Donovich only seemed to look more tired. “I have been praying to the Morning Lord for my son, for Doru. I’m afraid none but the gods can help him now.”

“But we-”

“FATHER! PLEASE! I’M HUNGRY!”

The shriek, especially so close now, caused all but Kcaj and Donovich to jump out of their skins. Donovich sighed. “Please, just go. There is nothing you can do for my son now. He has been transformed, and only the Morning Lord can save him now.”

“Look, I don’t know anything about this god of yours,” Lev said, glancing toward a side door. “But who’s to say he hasn’t sent us? Maybe we can do something. You don’t know what skills we possess. And if your son has become a monster,” He turned back and looked into the man’s eyes. “Will you really let him continue to be in pain? While waiting for a god who may not answer?”

Donovich’s face turned a bit purple and he took a breath as if to shout, only to sigh and deflate. “I...very well. But please, do not blame me for whatever happens. Just...I’m sorry.” he sighed again and walked towards the side door, pulling out a thick ring of keys. He opened the door, revealing a small room with a trapdoor. It was closed with thick chains that the priest unlocked and set aside. “My Doru is down there. I again, beg your forgiveness for whatever happens.”

“We will take your advice into consideration, father,” Kcaj said before pulling open the doors and descending down into the darkness, the party following them. Irene cast the Light cantrip on her quarterstaff and a few more things to give them some light as they descended into the deep basement. The walls and pillars they could see were covered with holy symbols, with no windows or other sources of light. Stepping off the stairs and moving a bit inwards, they were able to see a little into the far corner of the room. Sitting there was a hunched figure, curled into a ball and wearing filthy clothing. He was thin, ragged, and keening in pain, whimpering and moaning.

“Oh gods,” Irene whispered. “Is that...Doru?”

At the sound of her voice, the figure froze and its head rose. Irene gasped and stepped back as the young man’s gaunt, ragged face stared back at her. But what truly horrified her were the red eyes and mouth full of sharp teeth.

“I’m hungry…” Doru whimpered, slowly moving onto all fours and stalking forward a few paces. “I’m so hungry...I can smell...so fresh…”

“Gods, it’s not even human anymore.” Lev stumbled back, horrified. “What do-”

“I’m so hungry!” Doru shrieked and lunged forward, claws outstretched and mouth wide. Kcaj stepped in his path and managed to shove him back a few paces, pulling out his sword. 

“Get back, you vile thing!” 

Doru snarled and readied himself to lunge again. Irene held out her holy symbol, bright light shining from it. “Turn!”

The light grew brighter and Doru shrieked, scrambling away from Irene and her symbol. He pressed himself against the wall, staring at her with wide, red eyes full of bloody tears. “Please! Please, I’m so hungry! It hurts, it hurts so much! I just want it to stop!”

“Gods, he’s a vampire,” Irene stared in horror. She held her glowing holy symbol in one hand and her shimmering staff in the other. “We have to end his suffering. It’s the only mercy we have.”

“Fine with me. May your soul rest in peace, young man.” Kildrik nodded to Doru before running forward, glowing ax in hand. He swung at the frozen vampire, sure of a strike against a terrified enemy. He stumbled with shock when Doru snarled and leaped above him, avoiding the strike altogether. He landed behind the dwarf and spun, slashing at him with his claws and hissing. He just managed to catch a spot beneath Kildrik’s armor, causing him to cry out and fall forward. 

Kcaj stepped forward and wrapped the vampire in his arms, managing to trap the squirming and flailing young man. “I have him! Quick, strike now! Worry not about me, I can take it!” He grunted as Doru but and slashed at the Warforged, enraged by his lack of blood and flesh. Lev ran forward with his rapier, slashing at the vampire and landing a strike, as did Irene with her quarterstaff as Kildrik picked himself back up. 

Doru screeched in pain and glared at them, eyes mad with hunger and hatred. The others gaped as his wounds closed before their eyes and he began to trash with a renewed strength. They dove back as he managed to break free of Kcaj’s hold on him and lunged forward. “I need blood! I’m hungry!” his mouth opened in a hiss as he surged for Irene, knocking her back to the floor.

“Get away from her!” Kildrik shouted, barreling into Doru and forcing him away from Irene. He swung his ax again, glowing with holy light. Doru dodged the ax again, squirming like an eel and jumping onto the dwarf. He then yanked Kildrik’s head to one side and sank his teeth into him.

“NO!” Irene and Lev screamed, the former blasting at Doru with radiant light. Doru pivoted himself, attached still to Kildrik while avoiding the light and Lev’s followup stab. He casually backhanded Lev, sending the half-elf sprawling back and into Kcaj. Before any of them could react, both Doru and Kildrik slumped to the floor, the dwarf too still and pale. They watched in horror as Doru rose, his eyes gleaming with a renewed strength and intelligence.

“Oh, gods...no...nono…” Irene muttered in horror, scrambling back. “Run...we need to run!” she launched another bolt of radiant light at Doru, this time the spell landing directly into his face. The spawn shrieked and clawed at himself, distracted long enough for the others to flee back to the entrance of the basement. “Close the door!” she screamed as they reached the ground floor, the three of them scrambling to slam the basement doors closed. “The chains!” 

Donovich stared in shock, then scrambled to get the chains into place as Doru screamed and pushed at the doors. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the locks clicked into place and the party scrambled off of the doors. They rattled but remained in place despite Doru’s attempts.

“Oh, gods...oh gods…” Irene panted, her eyes wide with horror. Behind her, Donovich sighed sadly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But I told you-”

Irene spun on her feet, snarling at the priest. “You...why do you keep such a monster alive!?”

Donovich frowned. “He is still my son, no matter what. Besides, I did warn you to leave it alone. I have been praying to the Morning Lord, it is all I can do for my son. Now please, leave us be.”

Irene sputtered angrily before storming out of the church. Lev stared at the priest, his eyes dark and black, before following silently. Kcaj shook his head, turning to the priest. “Good sir, a good man has been lost today. I would ask that you reconsider keeping someone you claim to love in such a state. May your gods have mercy upon you both.” he bowed, then followed the pair out of the church.


	11. Recuperating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite their loss, the party must continue on in this dark and strange land.

Kcaj paused at the bottom of the church steps, seeing Lev and Irene standing side by side, staring into the distance. He followed their gazes and saw only the man from before, the one who had followed them briefly in town. “Master Lev? Lady Irene?”

“It’s him again,” Irene growled. “The one who was following us. Kevin.”

Lev flexed his fingers around the hilt of his rapier. “Maybe we should talk to him.”

Kcaj tilted his head. Kevin simply stood a ways away, staring in their direction. The man seemed to have a blank expression and stood with his arms limp at his sides. “He seems to be doing nothing. I am aware of the chance of him being a spy, but would it be wise to confront him without proof of wrongdoing?”

“He’s a spy for Strahd, right?” Lev mused, his voice low and angry. “A servant, just like that thing in the basement. We can’t kill that thing, but we can certainly take care of him.” 

“Master Lev, I understand that you grieve for your friend, but we cannot simply-”

“Well, why not!?” Irene snarled and took a step forward, only for Kevin to turn and flee. Before any of them could move, he was gone. “Damn it!”

Lev snarled. “We can still go after him.”

“Master Lev, I understand that you are in pain but we must press forward and-”

Lev spun on his heel, his eyes red and his cheeks wet. “Shut up! You don’t understand! How can you possibly understand!? You only just met us! I knew Kildrik for years!”

“Lev-” Irene rasped, her eyes wet.

“No! I lost my friend, and we can’t even get his body because of that monster! Kcaj can’t possibly-!”

Kcaj glanced down at Lev, his fencer’s mask somehow managing a stony expression. “I last saw any trace of my creators bathed in fire and blood and ice and acid and lightning as dragons waged war upon them. The battles were so fierce that both sides suffered terrible losses. Then, before I could do anything to defend my charges against an attacker, I was caught in some kind of dark magic that left me inert and nonfunctioning for years beyond my counting. When I awoke again, my entire world had gone. According to Lady Irene, the only things that remain are ruins and clusters of giants who no longer resemble anything that I once knew. Yes, master Lev, I know great loss. I say this not to trivialize your own, but to assure you that I do understand. We must press forward. It is the only thing we can do,” he turned his head to Irene. “I will begin to head for the mercantile, Lady Irene. We must gather supplies if we are to escort Lady Ireena to Vallaki.” He nodded at them both and began down the road again.

Lev stood, staring in silence after the Warforged. It was almost as if he was just seeing the unique features for the first time. The style of armor never before seen, a sword forged in a form rarely used anymore, all of the small signs that something was different about the Warforged. He winced. “Did I...I made him upset, didn’t I?”

Irene shook her head. “No, Kcaj doesn’t...feel those kinds of things. He was being honest with you. He understands more than even I know. Lev...I’m so sorry. I…”

Lev shook his head and wiped at his face. “I know. Let’s just...move forward as Kcaj said. It’s the only thing we can do.” He nodded to himself and followed the Warforged’s path. Irene stared for a bit after him before following, glancing back once more at the church before turning away.

The people of Barovia acted no different, except to throw some sympathetic looks in their direction when they noticed one less member among them. Lev was stoic, facing forward and not acknowledging them. Irene shivered at the resignation and feeling of depressing acceptance. By the gods, she hated this place. She hated this land, how it beat down its people so low that they merely accepted such awful things. There was no hope here, and she hated it.

More still, she hated its source. She glanced towards the bleak castle on the cliff, at its dark stone and black spires. She hated this Strahd, this Lord of the undead and tyrant who seemed determined to whither the people of this land into nothing. Irene had never met the man. Yet, her hatred of him managed to rival what she felt for the only two other people in all the realms that she despised. 

The mercantile was little different than the rest of Barovia. A small bell rang when they entered, and a stocky man emerged from the back. His eyes lit up a bit and he smiled at the three, spreading his arms. “Welcome adventurers! Please, peruse my wares! Best in Barovia village! My name is Otto and I’d be pleased to serve you,” He turned to a bigger man emerging from behind him. “Jack, my boy. We have customers! Tidy up a bit, if you please.” He smiled kindly and gently led the bigger man to a rack of supplies to the side. “There we are, good lad.”

Kcaj nodded. “Thank you, sir Otto. We are to be making a trip to Vallaki, with one additional companion, and will need adequate supplies.”

Otto smiled and nodded, turning away from the other man as he started to clean. “Of course! Sounds as though you’ll need rations, bedrolls, those sorts of things. I have a great deal on bundles and packs!” he began to gather up such supplies. They were of decent enough quality, enough to get them where they needed to go. Kcaj interjected from time to time, declining a few things since he did not require them. When Otto had the supplies in hand, he brought them to the front and quoted his price to the party.

Irene spluttered and gaped. “That much!? How in the world do you expect people to afford that!?”

Otto winced. “Well, you see-”

“He makes a living out of gouging people for all they’re worth.” Lev grumbled.

“Sir Otto, perhaps we can come to some arrangement. You must see that charging such prices is no way to lead a business.”

Otto sighed. “Look, folks, I’m going to level with you. Outsiders like you and the occasional trade with the Vistani are what keeps shops like mine running here. I hear you’ve been talking with Ismark, so you know the state this village is in. Constantly. We do what we have to do to make a living in this place. I have myself and my nephew to think about,” He gestured towards Jack, who at the mention of him looked up from the rack he was cleaning. The larger man had a simple look to him and gave his uncle a questioning look. Otto smiled at him. “You’re doing great, Jack. Keep up the good work.” Jack smiled brightly and returned to cleaning, while Otto turned back to the group. 

“Look, I’m not intentionally ripping you off. I’m not. I’m just trying to survive. I’ll knock the price down a bit, but it’s the best I can do.”

Lev grumbled but didn’t say anything. He turned to Irene, handed her some gold that he had, and walked out of the shop. Irene sighed and began to look over the money they had. “It may not be much more, but how about we give you ten gold pieces, plus this necklace?” She reached into her pouch and pulled out a few more gold coins, and one of the jeweled necklaces from the Durst home. “Will this suffice?”

Otto looked over the necklace and nodded. “Thank you. Four bedrolls, some torches, and packs and about five days worth of rations for three people. Again, I’m sorry. It’s just...this is a rough land to make a living in. I’m sure you’ll see more of it if you live long enough.”

Kcaj nodded his head politely. “I am sure, sir Otto. May you and your nephew stay safe in these troubled times. Good evening.” He and Irene gathered up their new supplies and headed out. Lev waited for them just outside, watching the others around them. “We should head back to Ismark’s home and rest for the journey to Vallaki.”

Lev sighed and nodded. “Yeah, let’s get going.” 

The three began down the street towards Ismark’s home. There was still no trace of the sun, though it felt to be around noon by their reckoning. Around halfway to their destination, they spotted Granny once again. The old woman was attempting to push her cart up a, particularly difficult looking incline, her skinny arms shaking with the effort. 

“Oh!” Irene headed over to help her push the cart to the top of the incline. “Let me help you, Granny.”

“Oh! You dear, sweet thing!” Granny smiled brightly, kissing the girl on the cheek. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m getting a bit old for this. But, I do what I can.”

“Surely you have family that could aid you, miss Granny?” Kcaj asked, walking over with Lev, who eyed her cart hungrily.

“Oh, I do have two daughters, but they’re back at home working,” Granny replied, pushing some of her silver hair from her face. “Someone has to make the pies and hold down the fort. Besides, I do like traveling,” She smiled, her pudgy face brightening. “I like interacting with folks. My pies may not be much, but they bring people a little bit of happiness. As I’m sure you’ve seen already, we could use a bit more here. I do my part, even if it’s only a tiny bit.”

Lev licked his lips and pulled out some gold. “Those pies of yours could bring happiness to the dead. How about some more?”

“Oh! My, what a dear thing you are,” Granny smiled and took the gold. She reached into her cart and produced seven pies. “For your help, here’s an extra couple! To show my appreciation.”

Irene smiled brightly. “You’re very generous! Thank you!” She smiled and packed away five of the seven, Lev having grabbed two. 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, dears,” Granny smiled and gave Irene another kiss. “I must be off now. You lot stay safe, now.” She gave them another smile and headed down the road with her cart, cheerfully humming as she went long.

Kcaj tilted his head. “It almost seems strange to see someone so cheerful, in comparison to everyone else.”

“I suppose so, but strangely, it’s also hopeful. That this land can’t break everyone.” Irene smiled. “It’s good to see. Anyway, let’s head back. I don’t want to be caught out here in the dark.”

It didn’t take the trio long to head back to the burgomeister’s home. Irene shivered again at seeing the destruction and dried blood but knocked on the door. “Ismark? Ireena? It’s us, we’re back.” She took a step back from the door and waited with the others.

There was some movement and the door slowly opened. Ismark looked over them and stepped back, making no sound or gesture. When the three came inside he nodded and closed the door. “There’s only three of you, I see.” He noted somberly. 

Lev grimaced. “That thing inside the church killed him. Drained his blood in front of our eyes.” he hissed, turning to the larger man. “And you knew it was in there, didn’t you?”

Ismark sighed. “I told you, you don’t survive this long by looking into things best left alone. I’m sorry about your friend, but I did warn you.”

Lev hissed and started for him, only for Kcaj to grab him by the arm and pull him back. Lev glowered but stomped off to the corner of the room where he and Kildrik had slept. Kcaj turned to Ismark, his head tilted. “Master Ismark, did it not concern you that such a creature remained so close to your village? What if it escapes and massacres innocents?” He gestured toward Ireena, who paused coming into the room. “Or your sister? Doru seemed to be starving in that basement, he did not seem to care who he killed, even if it was one his master would prefer alive.”

Ismark winced. “Look, I know how it sounds. But it’s secure in the church, it can’t get out. And no one here can kill one of those things. I don’t agree with it, at all. Donovich was better off allowing his son to die and pass on, but we can’t change anything. I’m sorry about your friend, but I did warn you. Things here, they’re dark and horrible and I would wish it on no one. But we can’t change our circumstances, only do our best to survive them. Sometimes, it’s all you can do. If you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare dinner.” he nodded to them and headed to the kitchen.

Ireena stepped forward, shifting a bit. “I-I’m sorry about your friend. He seemed like a good person,” she glanced toward Lev, who was plucking at his violin and staring off. “I’m so sorry.”

Lev only gave a half-shrug in reply. Kcaj took up a position by the door and began to see to his armor and his sword. Irene sighed and walked over to a table to layout their new supplies. She began to sort and pack things, half turning to Ireena to speak. “We can leave tomorrow morning. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I didn’t have much anyway. I’ll grab some more rations and water in the morning before we leave.”

Irene nodded. “Good to hear.” she turned back to her packing, her mind going in circles. She heard Ireena come to stand beside her. “We’re experienced enough that we should have few problems protecting you. If you have weapons, though, feel free to bring them.”

“I...I have a rapier. I don’t have much experience, not like you lot do. But it’s something,” Ireena bit her lip. “Please, don’t be mad at Ismark. It’s...not easy, living like this. Believe me, there are times where I want to scream and just run as far away as I can get. I want a life, a real one. I’ve been trapped in this house for a long time because of that monster. But...you can’t live a real life if some monster drains your blood.”

Irene let out a long sigh. “I...logically, part of me knows that you’re right. I cannot imagine what it must be like for you all. In these situations, survival must take importance. But...then there is the part of me, possibly the naive and childish part of me, that despises all of it. Life is about more than mere survival. It’s the foolish part of me that wants to march up to that castle and destroy that monster that seems to be the source of all of this suffering, in this land where cultists and monsters are a sad and dismal reality. I just,” she sighed. “I know, I know it’s foolish and I’m not passing judgment or anything of the sort. I just...I guess I just don’t know how to, I don’t know, process this.”

Ireena gave a wry chuckle. “Believe me, you aren’t the only one. We’re scraping by the best we can. We make it up as we go along, I think.”

“Hey, it’s kept you alive thus far, so you must be doing something right.” Irene said with a small smile. 

Ireena returned the smile and stood beside her, watching her work. After a few moments, she spoke up again. “Hey, Irene, um...can I ask you a few questions? If it’s alright?”

“Of course,” Irene replied, looking up at Ireena. “Ask me whatever you like. I’ll let you know if it’s too personal, alright?”

“Thank you,” Ireena nodded. She fidgeted a bit, gathering her thoughts. “It’s just...okay, you know how I’m adopted, right? I figured you picked that up from our talk before.” When Irene nodded, she continued. “It’s just...like I said before, I have no memories of my life before Kolyan and Ismark. They’ve just, always been my family. I have no memories of my life before that, except for fuzzy, vague ones about being lost in the woods. I remember the fog, but nothing else. I guess...just, you know, with how we’re twins and all...did you...have any long lost siblings, by chance?”

Irene bit her lip. “I...my first instinct is to say no. With how my parents are...if I had any siblings, I would have found some record of them. Believe me, I looked. I used to think that maybe I had some, and they were disowned and I eventually forgot them. My parents...have very particular views about how their children should work.”

“‘Work?’ That’s an...odd phrase to use.”

“It’s fitting though,” Irene grumbled. “With how they are, they…” She shook her head. “I suppose I may have had one, and just forgot about them. But then again, my parents would have kept some record of them, even if they were disowned for whatever reason. It’s just how they were. Pride in their blood and all of that nonsense.”

Ireena winced. “They don’t sound very pleasant.”

Irene squirmed. “...I had a privileged upbringing, I cannot deny that. I study magic because it fascinates me, and I have my parents to thank for that. They are powerful, affluent wizards. I had access to resources that permitted me my choice. We weren't quite nobility, we didn’t have such a thing in the area I grew up in, but we were close enough. I grew up privileged.”

“But…” Ireena gently prompted. “That doesn’t mean you can’t complain if you had hard times.”

“I shouldn’t complain, though. I didn’t struggle, I didn’t go hungry. I wore fine clothing and had an excellent education. Why should I complain?”

“You weren’t happy, clearly,” Ireena pointed out. “I can tell from your voice, the way you speak about your parents. I mean, you have parents to complain about, at least. But even I can tell that you don’t hold them in very high regard.”

Irene gave a small smirk. “I haven’t seen them since I ran away at fifteen years old. I’m twenty-one now. And even if I go back to my home plane, I don’t plan on seeing them anytime soon. The why is...complicated, I’ll say that much. It’s a lot of hurt, old hurt. And explaining it sounds like I’m complaining for no reason, at least a little bit, to me anyway,” she gave a little frustrated sigh. “Sorry. It’s just...awkward for me. But if I had any siblings, I haven’t found a trace of them.”

Ireena nodded. “I kind of figured,” she gave a small chuckle. “It would be something if we were twins. But I guess it’s just random happenstance.”

“Most likely, but the thought is fun,” Irene smiled. “I admit, I always wanted a sibling. I used to imagine that I did have one out there. Maybe one of those, ‘separated at birth’ sort of things,” she chuckled. “I even had the fantasy that I had an entire family that I was stolen from. That I was stolen and my real family was looking for me.”

“Huh,” Ireena’s eyes widened a bit. “That sounds...pretty heavy.”

“Yeah,” Irene shrugged, her cheeks pink. “But hey, it’s the past and not relevant. I make my own life, my own choices. And now I’m here, and while you’re with us, I’ll help protect you.” she smiled at Ireena.

Ireena returned the smile. “I look forward to traveling with you, then.”

Ismark announced shortly after that dinner was prepared. The group ate together in mostly silence. Kcaj remained by the door, his sword laying in his lap. Once dinner was done, Ismark brought out an old, weathered map that he was using to point out the road to Vallaki. “This is old, so I don’t know if anything has changed, but t the very least the roads are often straight forward. It should only take a few days to get to Vallaki. There are some woods, and of course, avoid this road,” he pointed to one. “It leads to the castle.”

Lev snorted a bit. “We have no intention of meeting the so-called Lord of this land if we can help it. He sounds like a creepy asshole,” he nodded towards Ireena. “Not to worry, well do our best not to let him get to you. Yeah, we only just met, but I have a problem with creeps like that.”

“Good to know,” Ireena smiled. “I don’t feel like meeting him again.”

“Again?” Lev raised an eyebrow.

Ireena nodded. “You should know, that he has bitten me twice before,” she pulled back her hair to show him and Kcaj, who’s head had turned around to see. “Obviously, I’m not a vampire. Thank the gods. But you should be aware of this. I don’t want you to be taken by surprise or something and end up hurt because of it.”

“That is indeed most troubling, lady Ireena. Rest assured, we will do all that we can to keep you safe from that creature.” Kcaj said confidently.

Lev smirked. “Damn right we will,” he nodded. “Besides, I like getting to ruin the days of powerful creeps like that. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.”

Ireena chuckled and Ismark grinned. “Good to know. Making that bastard’s like just a bit harder is always good in my book.”

“In any case,” Kcaj mentioned. “It would be a good idea to rest now. The sky has grown dark and we will need to be at our best to begin the journey in the morning.”

Ismark nodded and stood. “You’re right. We should all get some sleep.” he nodded to Ireena, and the pair said their goodnights before departing for bed. Irene, Lev, and Kcaj sorted out watch shifts between them before getting set up for the night. Lev downed one of the meat pies he had gotten from Granny, while Irene passed, wanting to save them for the road. 

Irene had first watch, so she positioned herself beside a powered down Kcaj. As with before, the night itself seemed quiet enough. None of the homes, from what she could see, had any lights on or any indication that people lived within them. She shivered at the ghost-like quality the village had. Combined with the general feeling of depression and hopelessness, it could have very well been a ghost town. It was toward the end of her watch that she began to see the beginnings of the March, and she was more than happy to wake Lev from his sleep. The half-elf was grumpy, grumbling about nice dreams while he readied himself for his watch. Irene climbed into her bedroll, the exhaustion of the day hitting her all at once and pulling her to sleep quickly.

In her dreams, she found herself back in the bookshop, which had become her haven after meeting the kind Alistair. She smiled as she breathed in the scent of the books, the lantern lights soothing to her. But there was a strange undercurrent to the dream, one that put her nerves on edge. She glanced around, looking for the familiar old man in dark blue robes. After a moment, she spotted him, standing in front of what she later learned was an image devoted to their shared goddess: a featureless woman holding a massive tome written in an indecipherable script. 

She called out to him, her voice echoing oddly in the small shop and making her wince. But he didn’t respond or move, his back to her. She called out again, moving forward and reaching out a cautious hand. Her fingers brushed his shoulder, making him turn to face her. She stumbled back in horror as she watched his face rapidly age and rot before her eyes, the flesh melting off to show the skull beneath. She let out a scream as he reached for her with one skeletal hand, his eyes burning a dark red. At the moment before she started awake, she heard a voice in her head, dark and cold sending chills through her to her very soul. It sounded, to her shuddering terror, inhumanly beautiful.

“Ah, it returns at last…”


	12. Starting Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some previous companions rejoin and the party sets out towards Vallaki.

“Are you sure that you are well, Lady Irene?” Kcaj asked. The party was eating a quick breakfast as they prepared to begin the journey to Vallaki. Lev was scarfing down another pie while the siblings were eating together, quietly speaking to one another. Irene was eating, albeit in nibbles. She had some dark circles under her eyes and moved a bit sluggishly. “I do hope you are not unwell.”

Irene shook her head and smiled at her friend. “I’m fine, Kcaj. Just...just a nightmare, that’s all. I will be fine, I promise.” She had no idea how she had managed to not scream as she awoke that morning, but she wasn’t going to question it. She nibbled at her pie, not really hungry despite the deliciousness of the pie. The images of Father Alistair’s face rotting away lingered in her mind despite her attempts to dispel them. This land seemed determined to horrify her.

She couldn’t let herself be distracted by them. They had to protect Ireena. She wouldn’t be able to do that if she was constantly dwelling on a disturbing nightmare. She took a bigger bite of pie. Somehow, the simple pastry was able to help her feel more at ease.

Kcaj nodded. “If you say so, Lady Irene. I trust your judgment. If you feel unwell, do not hesitate to speak up. It would not due to have you incapacitated because you pushed yourself too hard.”

Irene smiled. “I will, I promise. Let’s finish breakfast and get ready to go.”

After swallowing the last bite of pie and somehow finding the will to pack the rest away, Irene went over her supplies once more to ensure that everything was packed away. She had some trinkets she planned to sell once they found a friendly Vistani caravan, and the cloak she had grabbed from the Durst home would no doubt be useful.

The siblings finished their food and retreated to grab Ireena’s things, leaving the trio to pack up for themselves. It was as they were finishing up that there was a knock at the door. Being the closest, Kcaj opened the door before the others could react. Standing on the other side of the door were two familiar-looking half-elves, male and female. Feyre smiled at them.

“Hello, dear friends. It is good to see you well.”

“Yeah, hi,” Halben gave a little wave, fidgeting and looking around, his eyes not locking on anything. “So, uh, hope you guys didn’t get into too much trouble.”

“Master Halben, Lady Feyre,” Kcaj nodded and stepped back from the door. “Well met! It is good to see you both are well.”

“We got worried about you,” Irene smiled. “Welcome back.”

“Yeah, well, need to stick together and all,” Halben said as he and Feyre walked in. “Good to see you too. Good to see you guys found a place to stay. You would not believe what we’ve heard.”

Lev snorted a bit. “Oh, I’m sure we would.”

Ismark came running into the room, his eyes wide. “Who the hell-!”

“They’re with us!” Irene quickly said, stepping between him and Halben, who had tensed and gone for a weapon. “They’re Outsiders like us! They were with us before, but temporarily split from us when we came to the village. But they’ve come to join us. More protection for your sister. We can vouch for them.”

Ismark growled and rubbed his temples. “Could have told me that before. Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” He glared at Irene, then the newcomers. “You didn’t invite them in?” he addressed to Irene. 

Kcaj stepped forward. “I made no invitation, master Ismark. They entered with no issues.”

Halben rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re buying into the vampire thing? This town is insane.”

Feyre shook her head. “I told you, dearie, such beasts do exist. They are quite real, I assure you.”

Lev frowned. “One of those monsters murdered Kildrick yesterday. They’re real.”

There was a silence and Halben squirmed uncomfortably. “I...um...sorry.”

“Yes dear, we are so sorry,” Feyre walked over and hugged Lev. “He was a good person. I am so sorry, my friend.”

“Yeah, me too,” Lev murmured, hugging her back awkwardly.

Ismark sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, if they’re with you, fine. More help is welcome,” He introduced himself to the pair. “I suppose you’ll be helping escort my sister, then.”

“Uh, we will?” Halben raised an eyebrow.

Irene nodded. “We have agreed to escort his sister to Vallaki. The lord of this land has targeted her for unknown reasons and Vallaki is more fortified than the village.”

Feyre smiled and nodded. “Of course, we will be happy to assist. We have heard strange and dire things about this lord and his spawn. That house was not the only place he has defiled, it seems.”

“So you’re caught up on that at least,” Lev said. “Yep. Evil Strahd guy rules this land, called Barovia. Evil and a vampire and those are real. He’s targeted this guy’s sister, for reasons unknown, so we’ve agreed to escort her to someplace a bit safer than here.”

“Huh, well alright then,” Halben nodded then shrugged. “Okay, count us in. Not like there’s much we can do. From what we’ve heard, we’re trapped in this weird land. May as well get the measure of it while we’re here.”

Feyre smiled. “Indeed young sir, we would be happy to assist in escorting your sister. Rest assured, we will do all we can to ensure her safety. Is she getting ready?”

Ismark nodded and turned back towards the back of the house. “Ireena, they’re good. They’ll be helping to escort you.”

“Ireena?” Feyre raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Irene, chuckling. “It’s quite the coincidence, you having similar names.”

Lev chuckled. “Oh yeah, and just wait until you see her. More weirdness.”

Feyre and Halben both raised an eyebrow at him, only to openly stare as Ireena walked into the room. She wore sturdy traveling clothes underneath a breastplate and had a rapier strapped to her side. A backpack was slung across her back. She nodded to Feyre and Halben. “Um, hi. I suppose you’re friends of theirs?” She nodded to Irene and the others. When the pair didn’t respond, she squirmed. “Um...yeah, I guess you’ve noticed the similarities.”

“That’s...putting it...mildly,” Halben finally said, looking between her and Irene. “You, uh, have a long lost twin or something?”

Irene shook her head. “Not as far as I know. I’m leaning more towards random happenstance than anything else, but yes. Ireena and I share an appearance. Which could work in our favor should the need arise. I am willing to play the bait if necessary.”

“Which I hope it does not, Lady Irene,” Kcaj insisted. “That being said, I also do not wish danger upon Lady Ireena. Let us work to make sure that does not become a possibility.”

“Agreed, Kcaj,” Feyre said with a nod. “There is a plan set, then?”

Irene nodded. “We’ll be following the main road towards Vallaki. It should be a few days. I say, if we get the chance and it isn’t too far out of the way, we seek out the Vistani for more supplies if we need them. They also seem like they would know more about the land.”

“They do know a lot,” Ireena said. “They’re the only ones who can travel the land without fear of being attacked by beasts. Some think they’re in league with the Lord of Barovia, but they’re often quite friendly people. They’d be willing to trade with us and give us information.”

Irene nodded. “Sounds good, then. If we can find a group, we’d be wise to take the chance and talk with them. Are you ready?” 

Ireena nodded and the group began to wrap up last-minute preparations when a frantic knocking came at the door, and a frantic voice called for Ismark. The group tensed and fell back, hands on their weapons as Ismark approached the door cautiously and slowly opened it. “Mary?”

He opened the door further, showing a frantic looking old woman. She seemed about middle-aged, though the grey in her hair made her seem older. Her hair was wild, sticking up in all directions and her clothes looked to be randomly thrown together with large, discolored patches of cloth sewn on. In her hands, she clutched what looked to be a porcelain doll modeled after a young girl. It was disturbingly lifelike, with brown hair and wide, blank eyes. The woman, Mary, clutched at Ismark’s shirt.

“Ismark! Ismark! She’s gone! My baby is gone!”

“Easy Mary, easy,” Ismark said gently, carefully pried her off of him. “Who’s gone? Gertruda?”

Mary nodded, her eyes wide and bright. “My baby is gone! The Devil took her! I know he did!”

Ismark sighed and winced. When he spoke it was slow and gentle. “Mary, Gertruda went missing a while ago, remember? I’m so sorry no one has found her yet, but I don’t think the Devil took her. If he had, we would have found a body.”

Mary shook her head wildly. “No! No, he took her, Ismark! I have proof! Last night, the Devil’s minions killed Father Donovich!”

Ismark jerked back. “What?”

“It’s true! I saw them! Beasts in black crept up to the church and killed him! There were terrible screams and then they fled! I went to look this morning and his body was hanging from the bell! They killed him, Ismark! They killed a holy man because he knew the truth! He knew they took my baby so they killed him!”

Ismark shook his head but he looked shaken by the news. “I...thank you for telling me, Mary. It will be looked into. Please, go home now. I promise you, I will look into it.”

“Oh, Morning Lord bless you, Ismark,” She smiled, her eyes misty and almost dazed-looking. “My poor baby Gertruda...she’s so helpless, you know. I need to look after her, keep her safe,” she held the doll up to her face and rubbed her cheek against it. “My precious baby must be kept safe. Must keep her safe. It’s dangerous out in that big, terrible world...come on now, honey. Let’s go home.” She began to wander away and out into the street, humming, and stroking the eerie-looking doll.

Ismark closed the door with a shudder. “Mad Mary’s getting worse by the day. Yes, Lancelot can stay with me. He won’t do well with her.”

“Crazy lady with a creepy doll,” Halben shuddered. “Gods, this village is full of creepy things.”

“I am more concerned with the death of Father Donovich,” Kcaj said, stepping forward. “Men clothed in black, approaching in the dead of night, it sounds like they could be servants of Lord Strahd.”

“I want to check the church,” Lev said immediately. “If Donovich is dead, Doru is probably gone too. If he’s still there,” he clenched his teeth, then relaxed. “Then I want to bury Kildrik.”

“There’s no time,” Ismark snapped. “We’ve wasted enough of the morning. I want Ireena out on the road as soon as possible. Besides, his servants could still be there. Do you want to get yourself killed too?”

“I’m not leaving until I check on my friend,” Lev insisted. “If his body is still there, I am not going to leave him unburied.”

“We don’t-”

“Gentlemen, I do have a solution,” Kcaj said, stepping between the two. “I will accompany master Lev while the others begin to head out towards Vallaki. We will make a quick check for master Kildrik’s body, then catch up to them. If the body is not there, or if there is danger, then we will withdraw sooner. Either way, we will rejoin the others before it grows dark. Is this agreeable?”

Lev and Ismark stared at one another for a few moments before nodding. Lev packed up the rest of his things while Ismark drew Ireena aside. The siblings spoke for a few moments, each looking pained. Irene peeked over as she went through her own pack. Ireena looked close to tears, Ismark didn’t seem much better. Ireena seemed to insist on something from Ismark, who agreed with a tired-looking nod. The siblings embraced, clearly not wanting to let go. Irene looked away as she pulled out a cloak from her pack. A little part of her was jealous of their relationship. Clearly, they cared for one another and did not want to separate. Even if it was the best thing they could do.

When the siblings separated, Irene walked up to Ireena and held out the cloak to her. “Here, I figured you could use this.”

“Thank you,” Ireena said as she took the cloak. It was soft and surprisingly light despite the thick looking fabric. It was a mixture of various greens and golds and browns, giving the appearance of a forest. “Is it special in some way?”

“It is,” Irene nodded. “I actually was able to observe it some. See these, here?” She pointed to the trim of the cloak. The entire thing was done in deep emerald, with symbols and some script in what Irene was able to recognize as a common Elvish language. “These are essentially blessings, giving protection. This was blessed by Corellon, an Elvish god. It will give you some added protection as long as you wear it.”

Ireena smiled and took off her pack briefly to don the cloak. “Thank you, I appreciate it. I do have some skill with a rapier, but I’ve been inside this house for most of my life. I don’t exactly have fighting experience.”

Irene smiled. “Good thing there’s quite a few of us to protect you. Shall we?”

Not long later, after one last tearful goodbye hug between Ireena and Ismark, the party set out and towards the entrance to the village. Partway there, Lev and Kcaj split off and headed towards the church. A few people seemed to know what was going on and bowed their heads in goodbye to Ireena. The young woman nodded back to them, managing a small smile. She walked with her head high and shoulders squared.

“Not easy, leaving home, is it?” Feyre said softly. She smiled kindly at Ireena, laying a hand on her arm. “I understand, especially under such dire circumstances.”

Ireena sighed and nodded. “It’s not the way I imagined leaving home. I always used to think about traveling when I was younger, exploring the land and all of its hidden secrets. Before I realized how dangerous it was, especially for me.”

“Don’t you worry, dear,” Feyre insisted. “We’re not about to let that vile thing harm you. We may not know him as you and these people do, but what little we did see has convinced us of his evil. If it was within our power, we would end his existence,” her nose crinkled. “I am not at all fond of...creatures such as he.”

Irene grimaced. “Powerful, smug, egocentric, vain bastards who think they can have whatever they want because they have power?”

Feyre blinked. “Well, I admit, I primarily meant vampires, but that is also quite despicable. You have encountered that kind of person before?”

Irene’s cheeks flushed and she ducked her head. “Um, sort of. I just...I can recognize the type. I’d rather not get into it.”

Ireena nodded. “Of course. I’d rather not talk about Strahd either unless we have to,” She shivered. “I’d rather not even think about him, had I the choice.”

“Can’t blame you. The guy is a total creep,” Halben said, casually looking over a dagger as they walked through the gates and onto the main road. “The guy’s powerful enough to have plenty of people, why stalk some random girl? I mean, some people are attracted to creepy bastards like that. Then again, he probably gets off on making you paranoid and scared. It’s kind of pathetic, really. The creep must be bored to tears to harass random village girls.”

“Uh, thanks?” Ireena raised an eyebrow. “I...think?”

Halben shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind trying to kill him eventually. He’s the type of soulless prick I don’t mind killing. Sure, he’s probably powerful enough to kill us all. But I can say that if it came to it, we’d probably go down fighting, so at least there’s that.”

Irene and Ireena traded a wide-eyed, confused look. Halben’s tone was calm, casual as if he were discussing the weather. He still wouldn’t look anyone in the eye, and if Irene thought about it, he hadn’t done so a single time since she had met him. His fingers twitched constantly as if longing to hold and move something. He almost always had a dagger in his hands, which were only still during battle. Halben slowly began to notice their stares and fidgeted with his dagger more, staring resolutely at the ground.

Feyre noticed and stepped between them. “Please do not take offense. Halben can be a bit blunt at times, but he is a good man at heart. He just tends to express things...differently, than most.”

“Well...” Ireena spoke after a moment. “Hey, sometimes we need bluntness, especially here,” she offered him a small smile. “Barovia isn’t for the faint of heart. You won’t survive without a thick skin.”

Halben smiled a bit, though he didn’t look up at Ireena. “So, rapier user, huh? Wanna spar sometime?”

“Sure, though you would probably kick my ass,” Ireena grinned. “But I would be up for some lessons. I know some, but I’m hardly an adventurer.”

“Sounds good to me,” Halben grinned and looked up at her, though not meeting her eyes. “It definitely can’t hurt.”

Irene smiled, as did Feyre. The older woman almost seemed to sag with relief, patting Halben on the back and smiling with pride. The four continued in silence for a bit, turning when they heard the sound of metal clanging behind them. Coming towards them at a light jog were Kcaj and Lev. The silver-haired man had a dark expression and clutched his bag so tightly that his knuckles were white. 

“Kcaj, Lev! That was rather fast,” Irene noted carefully. “We didn’t expect you back so soon. What did you find at the church?”

“Unfortunately, madam Mary was telling the truth about Father Donovich,” Kcaj explained. “We found his body hanging from the church bells. He seemed to have been viciously beaten beforehand. We took down his body and laid it out for burial later. Master Ismark said he would take care of it at a later time. We went to the basement to see if we could collect master Kildrik’s body. The chains and doors were torn apart from the outside, and Doru was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, neither was master Kildrik’s body.”

Irene’s eyes widened. “They...they just took his body?”

“Someone must-have. For reasons that will no doubt not be good,” Kcaj nodded his head. “As there was nothing we could do, we set out to catch up with you post-haste.”

“Gods...Lev…”

Lev shook his head, he looked exhausted. “Let’s just move on. I don’t want to think about it right now, okay?”

“Of course,” Irene nodded. “Let’s get a move on then. We can set up a camp when it starts to get dark. Let’s cover as much ground as we can before then.”


	13. A New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party travels the Slavich Woods and meet a new friend.

Irene had to admit that the Barovian countryside was...rather beautiful. Rolling hills, vast amounts of open countryside, even without the sun shining it was beautiful. Dotted here and there were old barns and crumbling homes marking abandoned farmsteads. But even those didn’t take away from the beauty of the landscape. Growing on the sides of the road were unique looking flowers that Irene had never seen before. They were a lovely hue of colors, mostly bordering on red. Irene couldn’t help but reach down and touch one, being careful not to pluck it, instead gently touching the petals. They were soft, almost silky to the touch.

Irene couldn’t help but take in the sights. She knew she should be watching for danger and the landscape wasn’t something she had never seen before. Her own homeland had similar areas and at least one or two that were breathtakingly beautiful. But there was just something about the landscape of Barovia that was charming.

If she stopped to think about it, she would guess that it had to do with her expectations based on what she had already experienced in Barovia. Death, despair, she had seen an entire village so depressed and broken under the rule of a cruel monster. She had honestly expected the land to mirror what it would be like living under a cruel, monstrous lord. She had expected a barren wasteland if she was honest. The abandoned farmsteads were more what she expected, but even they weren’t entirely dreary or depressing.

Ireena moved up to walk beside her, chuckling. “I know, there should be way more graves, right?”

Irene jumped, her face going red. “Well, no, just...Well, I suppose you know.”

Ireena chuckled and nodded. “Barovia is a dreary place, it seems like the landscape should match. Barovia Village is dreary enough, it’s fitting,” she looked around, her eyes a little misty as she took in the sights. There was a shine to her eyes and a small smile that hid some of the wonder in her expression. “I admit though, I’m glad that it’s not. I am glad that I get to see this.”

The revelation hit Irene, making her start a bit as it connected. It was obvious, so obvious that she didn’t know why it didn’t connect before. “This is the first time you’ve left, right?”

Ireena nodded. “I grew up in Barovia Village, and when we realized that, for whatever reason, Strahd was after me, I was kept inside all the time. There are spies in the village, and vampires can’t enter without invitation. It made sense. It was the safest.”

“But you were essentially a prisoner in your own home. The rooms must have seemed smaller every passing day,” Irene said softly and Ireena looked over at her. “You know it was logical, sensible. But it didn’t make it any easier.”

“That’s it exactly,” Ireena nodded. She bit her lip, holding back the natural question she wanted to ask. “There were times where I wanted to just claw my way through the walls.”

Irene gave her a soft smile. “And now you’re out. Feeling agoraphobic yet?” She chuckled a bit at Ireena’s small frown. “Agoraphobia is the fear of wide, open spaces. Like a lot of fears, it can be overcome. Usually through careful exposure. Of course, it’s not something that would necessarily occur if you’ve been kept in a house for years, but it’s always a possibility.”

Ireena chuckled. “None of that, I think. To be honest, I think I’m too afraid of Strahd to be afraid of anything else. Compared to him, it all seems so...small.”

“Which is fair, especially if he is as powerful as he seems.”

“I don’t know about that, but he has been alive for centuries. He’s been lord of this land and it’s beasts for so long, that I’m not sure if this land knows anything else,” Ireena shivered.

“I highly doubt he’s a god, and even they can die.” Irene smiled when Ireena turned to her with wide eyes. “It’s true. Even gods can die. It’s actually a rather important part of my goddess’s history. Granted, it’s not exactly the easiest thing in the multiverse, but it can be done.”

Ireena shook her head and chuckled. “This journey should be interesting with you lot.”

“Oh, we’re just a barrel of laughs,” Lev said, dropping back a bit, smiling a bit too widely. His eyes were still a shade or two darker, his hurt still visible. “You have to make life interesting, seek out the good bits. Or when it ends, you’ll be left with regrets and all that junk.”

“Well, I suppose you could see it like that,” Ireena said, a bit hesitant. “At least if I do die, I’ll have seen at least some of my homeland, so there’s that.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lev flashed her a grin before letting some of his cheer drop. “But seriously though, try to find the good spots in life. It is worth it. Just try not to let the rest bog you down too much,” he gave them a wink before wandering off to the side of the party, between them and Kcaj, who brought up the rear.

“He’s...handling things well enough, I suppose…”

Irene nodded. “Everyone deals with grief in their own ways...I mourn Kildrik, but Lev knew him for far longer. I can’t imagine his pain. But he is handling it in his own way.”

They traveled for a few more hours, stopping for lunch at what they figured was noon on the border of a forest. When they began again, traversing through the woods, there was a noticeable tension in the air. Ireena became a bit more paranoid, keeping a more careful watch around her, her hand on the hilt of her rapier. The others followed suit, though keeping a much more level and careful approach. There was a sudden fluttering and Irene jumped out of her skin, just barely keeping in her shout of surprise as a raven flew over their heads.

“Dear gods, give me a heart attack why don’t you, stupid bird,” She grumbled, irritated.

“Now dear, don’t be so rude,” Feyre smiled up at the bird as it passed. “Ravens are such intelligent creatures. You do not want to be on their bad sides. Did you know that it is considered good luck to have a raven looking out for you?”

“I’ve heard similar sayings, sort of,” Ireena said. “That it is good luck, but you also don’t want them listening in to conversations you want to be kept private. They’re said to be spies, though the stories can’t decide whether it’s for Strahd or something else.”

“Oh, I doubt ravens would serve a being like Strahd. He may have control over the creatures, but not ravens. They’re far too smart for that,” Feyre chuckled. 

“Let us take it as a sign of good luck then, and keep moving. Perhaps we will find a good place to camp for the night.” Kcaj said, moving forward. 

Halben shrugged. “Camping in the woods isn’t so bad. I can make a fire alright enough. But let’s try to cover more ground,” Suddenly he scrunched his nose. “Ew, anyone else smell that?”

The party paused, those with a sense of smell trying to catch whatever had caught Halben’s attention. Irene and Ireena frowned, but Lev and Feyre made similar faces to Halben in turn. “Ugh, yeah I’m getting that now. Gross, must be something dead around here.” Lev stuck out his tongue. “Maybe something left behind.”

“You can smell that?” Ireena raised an eyebrow. “I can’t smell anything.”

Lev smirked. “Half-elves have slightly better senses than humans. Granted, it’s not like full elven senses, but it’s good in a pinch. The smell isn’t too bad, nothing fully rotting or anything. But it’s been out in the open for a bit. Could be the remains of a hunt.”

“LIke a half-eaten deer carcass?” Halben called out from further ahead. The party moved to catch up with him, standing several feet away from the said carcass. His eyes scoured the area, a dagger in one hand. “Looks like it was just left here. Doesn’t look normal to me.”

“Certainly not, well spotted, master Halben,” Kcaj said, drawing his katana. “We must be vigilant. We do not know what creatures await us.”

“Wolves!” Ireena shouted, drawing her rapier, backpedaling towards the group and away from the wolf that emerged from the forest line. As if signaled, more wolves jumped into the path, surrounding the group and snarling. “Damn wolves!”

Irene slammed her quarterstaff against the ground and the weapon became enveloped in light. “Could be worse! Let’s be thankful it isn’t!” She spun and slammed her staff into the flank of the nearest wolf as the others drew their weapons and charged.

Lev and Kcaj seemed to throw themselves into combat, seeming to take some pleasure as their weapons struck home against the wolves. After the fight with Doru, it was a relief to see something bleed and yelp with pain. Halben swung his rapier, glancing his target with a small slash to the side. The wolf snarled, turning to strike, only to yelp and howl with anger and fall to the side. Ireena stood behind it, pulling her rapier from the beast’s side. She gave Halben a small smile, who chuckled.

“Guess you’re not too bad after all.”

“Thanks, must have gotten lucky,” Ireena smiled. “Still looking forward to some lessons.” she then turned to rejoin the fight.

A wolf lunged at Feyre’s side, sinking its teeth into her flank. Feyre let out a cry of pain and rage, grabbing the wolf by the fur and flinging it away from her. She pointed her scythe at the beast, the weapon glowing a dark purple color. An eerie symbol glowing in the same color appeared on the creature, causing it to suddenly stumble and sway as if it had been knocked on the head. Feyre bared her teeth in a feral grin and charged, swinging her blade at the creature as it lunged at her. The blade slashed across its throat, blood spilling into the ground. The body fell, twitching as it died. As it went limp, it began to glow purple. Then the light traveled from the wolf to Feyre, sinking into her body. The wound on her side began to knit and close as it did. 

She turned, raising her scythe to attack a lunging wolf when it yelped in pain and jerked to one side. Before it could recover, a second arrow joined the first sticking out from its flank and it fell. Several arrows flew through the air, striking several wolves in the flanks and a couple in the eyes. A figure stood away up the path in the direction they had been going, longbow firing at the wolves. With the additional aid, it wasn’t long before the pack was dispatched.

“Well, that was bracing,” Lev chuckled, wiping down his rapier. “Nothing like a pack of wolves to get the blood flowing. Everyone alright?”

“Fine here. Feyre, are you well?” Irene turned to the woman, a small frown on her face. “I saw you get hurt pretty badly…”

Feyre smiled and chuckled. “Oh, I’m alright dear. It takes more than a fur bag to get this old lady. We do owe some thanks to our help, though,” She turned as the figure walked up the path toward them and her eyes widened. “Oh my…”

“Uh-huh…” Irene tilted her head. “I can’t say I expected that.”

The figure walking up to them was male, going by the height and broad, muscular build. He was dressed in loose, leather armor that seemed fit for quick, light movement. A quarterstaff was strapped to his back and he carried a large sack. But what truly caught the party’s attention were the silver scales and fins the man bore, as well as the piercing, silver eyes. He had a broad snout and long, sharp-looking claws. His hands were wrapped in cloth.

Ireena’s eyes went huge and she sputtered. “Who-what the-!”

“Hm. I wager this is a Dragonborn,” Kcaj said, his voice taking an odd tone. He put away the cloth he had been cleaning his sword with but did not sheathe the weapon. “...Interesting. I was not aware that the species existed here.”

“We don’t, actually,” The Dragonborn spoke, raising an eyebrow. “Since you know what I am, I’m guessing you’re outsiders like me. The name’s Maratesh.”

Feyre smiled. “Good to meet you, Maratesh. We thank you for your assistance with the wolves. It was greatly appreciated. You are correct, we are indeed outsiders.”

“I kind of figured. The locals typically avoid the Slavich Woods like the plague, and you guys are way too armed to be locals.”

“We’re on our way to Vallaki,” Irene stepped forward, holding her hand out to Maratesh. He smiled and shook her hand. “Since you know these woods so well it seems, know any place that’s safe to camp?”

Maratesh nodded. “Well, the safest place would actually be with my people. There’s a Vistani camp by Tser Pool. You’d be perfectly safe there.” 

Irene’s eyes brightened. “Oh, that sounds perfect! We wanted to talk with them anyway. We'd be most grateful.”

“Your people?” Halben raised an eyebrow. “Uh, are the Vistani Dragonborn? I thought you were an outsider.”

Maratesh snorted. “Yes, but these Vistani took me in some years ago. I...I don’t remember exactly how I got here to Barovia, or what happened to me. But I do remember them taking me in as one of their own. They saved my life and have sheltered me. They’re family. So yes. My people.”

“Of course, we should be glad to meet them,” Feyre smiled. “If they are so kind, then hopefully they will help us as well.”

“Well, if you don’t mind helping me skin these wolves and collect their meat, I’ll be glad to take you to them,” Maratesh smiled. “This was why I was in the woods anyway.”

“Very well then, we will offer our services,” Kcaj nodded, slowly sheathing his sword. He then deliberately turned away from Maratesh and got to work gathering the wolves together. The others spread out, taking some tools from Maratesh to get to work. 

Ireena sidled up to Irene, keeping her voice low. “So...Dragonborn? Are they...normal, where you come from?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, quite,” Irene nodded. “They’re not everywhere, or as common as humans or elves or dwarves, but they aren’t unusual. He’s also Metallic, so that’s promising.”

“It...is?” Ireena frowned. “As opposed to...what?”

“Oh, um, yes. As opposed to chromatic.”

“And that’s...bad?”

Irene sighed. “Well...I suppose that honestly, though I am inclined to say that it is bad, it is one of those things that can be hotly debated along with notions like good and evil, nature vs. nurture, that sort of thing. You could argue that a metallic dragon, or Dragonborn, can be just as evil as they claim the chromatics are. You could also argue that chromatics have just as much capacity could be good. I mean, typically, the Metallics are considered to be good-aligned while the chromatics tend to be evil and vicious. Then you get their respective gods involved and that just makes it all the more complicated.”

Ireena stared for a bit. “Um...okay. So how do you tell them apart?”

“Ah,” Irene blushed. “Well, ‘Metallic’ dragons and their ilk are just that. They have metallic scales and colorings. You have gold, silver, as with Maratesh here, bronze, copper, and brass. The only platinum dragon is the god Bahamut. Chromatics are the solid colors. Red, White, Blue, Green, and Black. Their goddess is the five-headed Tiamat, each head one of the five colors. She currently is trapped in the first layer of Hell, Avernus. She’s quite evil.”

“Well okay then,” Ireena nodded. “But...you were saying that each side is capable of both good and evil. But the chromatic goddess is evil.”

“Well, that’s the funny thing with dragons, I think,” Irene continued. “They’re not really mortal. So I don’t see how they can have alignments that fit with anything mortals create, even if their goals align with ours. Plus, I have heard stories of creatures from both sides going against what their perceived morals should be, for good or evil. Plus, Dragonborn are mortal beings. It all just gets that more complicated when you add mortals to the mix. Sure, there are clearly good things and people, and clearly evil beings and people. Strahd, for instance, is clearly an evil, egomaniacal bastard that needs to die.”

Ireena snorted in surprise and laughed. “So, there are metallic dragons and chromatic dragons, good and evil are messy concepts, but Strahd is definitely evil.”

“Essentially,” Irene smiled. “Of course, other people have different philosophies and outlooks. But hey, it makes life interesting.”

It took a little over an hour for the group to gather the skins and meat from the wolves. Maratesh hefted his sack over his shoulder and turned to the group. “The camp isn’t far from here. We can reach it before dark. At most, you’ll have to pay with a good story, but we’d be glad to have you for the night. Or however long, you want, typically,” he shrugged. “We’re good hosts like that. Hope you like drinking.” he chuckled and turned, starting up the path with the party following behind him. He turned at a fork in the road, heading deeper into the woods. The sky had grown darker, but soon enough colorful lights began showing through the trees. Sounds of music and laughter began to fill the air. 

Maratesh led them from the path towards the lights, leading them to a large clearing. Irene couldn’t help but gape at the riot of color, melding and blending beautifully together. Large tents were set up all around the clearing, bearing flags and pinions. People were scattered throughout among the tents, laughing and even singing songs in a language none of the party recognized. The people too were colorful, some of their clothes even seeming to shift colors as they moved. Maratesh smiled at the party and gestured to the camp.

“The Vistani of Tser Pool greet you and welcome you to their camp.”


	14. Dinner and a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party enter the Vistani camp to tell some tales and hear a very interesting one.

Irene couldn’t help but smile as the festive air of the camp started to get to her. All around her, people were laughing, drinking, dancing, and just having fun. There was no sense of danger here, no impending doom. There was just fun, and music. It was almost infectious. Beside her, Lev had brightened considerably and he couldn’t seem to help but bounce as he walked.

“It certainly is festive, isn’t it?”

Lev grinned at her. “Seems like my kind of place. These people are surrounded by darkness and gloom, but they still party and have fun.”

“There are rumors that the Vistani have the protection of Strahd, that no beast dares to attack them,” Ireena pointed out. “So there could also be that.”

“Maybe,” Lev agreed. “But even with protection, the depressing nature of this place can still get to you. It’s impressive that these people don’t let it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Ireena nodded. “Gods know what I wouldn’t give to feel like that.”

As they walked into the camp, the people around them called out in cheerful greeting and welcome. A middle-aged woman with bright yellow hair, streaked with blue, squealed and jumped at Maratesh. She glomped the poor Dragonborn, causing him to stumble a bit. Maratesh grumbled. “Yeesh, you act like I’ve been gone for weeks, Ivy.”

“You know I worry about you, sweetie!” The woman kissed him on his snout, patting him in a motherly way. “When you go off hunting and exploring, I can’t help but worry about my boy!” She peeked around him and perked up. “Oh! New friends! Introduce me!”

Maratesh’s scales became a darker silver and he fidgeted. He half-turned to the group. “This is Ivanna. She practically adopted me when the camp took me in. So she’s kinda like my, uh, mom. Ivanna, I met this group while out on a hunt. We helped kill that troublesome pack of wolves that’s been causing problems. They’re headed to Vallaki.”

“Vallaki? Oh, that’s a fine enough place. Of course, you are welcome to stay the night!” Ivanna smiled widely at the group. “Any friend of my Maratesh is welcome! You are our guests! Marianne!” she turned towards a nearby fire pit. Another woman was bowed over it, stirring something in a pot. She straightened and turned when called. “Add some more servings! We’ve got guests!”

Irene smiled. “Thanked you, ma’am. We greatly appreciate your offer of shelter and-”

“Oh, tosh!” Ivanna hugged Irene. “No need for formality here, dearie! You’re all friends to us! We know how difficult it can be when you’re Giorgio. Barovia can be a hard place.”

“What did you call us?” Lev frowned a bit. “What does that mean, Giorgio?”

“Oh!” Ivanna smiled at Lev. “Nicely done! Most don’t get the accent right the first time! It means ‘Outsiders,’ no harm meant. We can spot these things, we can tell.” Ivanna led them over to the fire pit, where rough, wooden benches had been set up around it. A couple of Vistani had already taken up some seats. “Be welcome!”

Feyre smiled. “This place is absolutely lovely! Everyone is so cheerful and happy. Quite a nice change.”

The other woman, Marianne, looked up and smiled, pushing her long, black hair out of her face. “Barovia can be a dismal land. You have to find happiness where you can. But enough of that for now. It’s time for payment!”

The group went still, though Maratesh had already begun unpacking his finds. “Payment?” Halben said hesitantly. 

Marianne nodded. “Yes! It’s our custom! For food and shelter. It’s an old tradition, but a fun one.”

Halben’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly how much do you want? Or what do you want?”

She frowned, then Marianne suddenly blushed. “Oh! Oh dear, not like that,” She shook her head, her black curls flying. “Nothing like that! Just stories.”

Ireena blinked. “Stories?”

“Stories,” Ivanna nodded as she started to serve bowls of hot, meaty stew. “We trade in stories for these occasions! Something fun, adventurous!” she smiled widely, gesturing for them to take seats. “You tell us a story, then we tell you one.”

Halben fidgeted, his hand moving as if to slip something back into his waist. “Oh. Stories. Okay.” his face slightly red, he took a seat beside Feyre.

Maratesh chuckled. “It’s part of Vistani tradition. I think it’s meant to encourage communication, right?” he looked over at the two women.

“Essentially, yes, especially with non-Vistani,” Marianne nodded. “A lot of people don’t look kindly upon us, unfortunately. Sometimes, I am ashamed to say, it is warranted, but a good number of us are good people and we want to share that with others.”

So who wants to share a story?” Ivanna smiled as she passed out bowls. “It can be about anything! Well, almost anything. Nothing horrific, if you please.”

Lev stared at his bowl for a moment, before setting it to one side and standing. He took his violin out of its case and turned to the small crowd that had begun to gather. “I have a story. A story about a friend, a friend who was brave and kind, and who had saved my life many times over. This is a story about Kildrik Stonecleaver, dwarven Paladin of Moradin.”

He began his story, recalling his first adventure with the dwarf that had taken place in a deep cave as they both searched for a long-forgotten colony of humans and dwarves. He described in detail their battles with creatures within the caverns, his music changing to more dramatic, bombastic tones as with each strike of Kildrik’s ax. The music became mournful and haunting as Lev spoke of the remains they found, of the two races who had lived in harmony with each other to survive the dark caverns, and the sheer misfortune that had led to their demise. He had the crowd openly sobbing, and some of their own party had begun to shed tears as well, as he described Kildrik giving a heartfelt ceremony of passing over the remains of a group of warriors, clad in armor that lay in a ring around a small collection of bones and scattered toys. 

Lev ended the story with a somber, sorrowful note, devoting his performance to the memory of his lost friend. Irene wiped away tears of her own, feeling the pain of his loss in the beautiful story. Ivanna was openly sobbing as she gave Lev a warm hug, careful of his instrument.

“Oh child, you honored your friend with that beautiful performance. I hope his soul finds peace in that, dear. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Lev blushed and patted the woman’s back. “Thanks. I...I hope he likes it too,” he blinked his too-bright eyes and sat down to carefully put away his violin.

After a while, as the crowd began to calm, Kcaj stood, his armor creaking somewhat. “Master Lev, that was indeed a masterful performance, and I dread doing it dishonor by my own lack of skill. But, perhaps, if the crowd is willing, I will give my own story. It is a child’s tale from my homeland, a tale of a dastardly thief and hopefully an entertaining one. I bring to you, good Vistani, the tale of the thief, Jack.”

Irene had to bite her lip to hold back laughter from the reactions of the audience. She had heard the story before and knew how...gruesome, it could be. But it was an amusing story, nonetheless, and many of the audience were left in much cheerier spirits than before. Some of the crowd departed, making way for a rather large man as he walked up to the fire. He was tall, almost as tall as Kcaj, and just as muscular as the Warforged was armored. Marianne squealed and leaped at the man, peppering his face with kisses. “Hans!”

The man, Hans, laughed and swung the small woman in a circle. “You act like I haven’t been here for the past three days, girl!”

Marianne laughed. “Well, I get excited to see you! Who else is going to get me my favorite spices from Vallaki?”

Hans let out a full belly laugh. “Did I miss the stories?”

“Unfortunately, you did miss the new ones,” Ivanna smiled. “Our guests told us some amazing ones! Well worth the tradition! I was just about to tell the story of the wizard in return.”

“That one?” Hans brightened and took a seat, Marianne sitting next to him. “Oh, that one is good, and you have a flair for it. You folks are in for a treat,” he smiled at the party. “I’m Hans, a traveling merchant of sorts. After the story-telling, if you have time, come and see my cart. Or in the morning, if you have the time. I’ll be here for a while yet.”

“Most obliged, sir,” Kcaj nodded his head as he took a spot near the benches. “It will be good to resupply ourselves before we leave tomorrow.”

Ivanna had a large smile as she took a spot in front of the fire, facing the crowd that had gathered around the party. “Now, my dears, I tell you the story of a great and powerful wizard. An Outsider to these lands, who for ten years raised a great army in an attempt to take down the leader of these lands. The Lord Strahd Von Zarovich.”

Irene’s eyes widened and she felt herself lean forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her party have similar reactions. An outsider who had dared to try and face Strahd attempted to destroy the vile monster. Ivanna did indeed have a flair for the dramatic as she described the wizard’s harrowing journey to survive the harshness of Barovia. How he had sought to gather allies for his cause, taking in recruits from all over the land. Ivanna declared that even some Vistani had tried to help in what small ways they were able, and Irene noticed that some looked uncomfortable as Ivanna mentioned some sort of ‘pact’ that kept them from aiding openly with the outsider. Almost ashamed.

But the discomfort soon turned to awe as Ivanna went on to describe a fierce battle. After spending nearly a decade rallying and planning, marched on Castle Ravenloft to confront Strahd. Unfortunately, the people he had gathered had not been mighty magic-users or powerful warriors. They had simply been people who had wanted to see a tyrant overthrown, and had died at the hands of Strahd’s monsters.

The wizard, on the other hand, faced Strahd in a duel of magic that had caused the very mountain to shake. One Vistani even aided with some smoke and illusions as a visual aid with Ivanna’s descriptions of the battle, as the two threw great spells of fire and lightning at one another. The crowd made noises of awe and appreciation with the display, Ivanna’s dramatic description of a climactic battle straight out of storybooks. Alas, though the wizard fought valiantly, it was Strahd who emerged as the victor, and the wizard’s body was cast down the mountainside in defeat.

The crowd slowly dispersed and Irene set aside her empty soup bowl. “That was...quite something.”

“Indeed, madame,” Kcaj agreed. “The use of illusions and smoke was most inspired.”

Ivanna smiled and curtsied. “I always aim to please, my dears!”

Maratesh chuckled. “You always did have a dramatic side.” 

Feyre smiled. “It was a captivating story, dear. So very exciting! And this happened recently?”

Marianne nodded. “Last year, as a matter of fact. He was here for about a decade, building an army and gathering allies to take down Strahd.”

Ireena frowned. “And...you helped him?”

Ivanna fidgeted a bit. “As much as we were able. We were unable to openly aid him, and those that would are not generally trustworthy.”

“Not trustworthy?” Halben raised an eyebrow. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“And that whole thing about a pact?” Lev asked, leaning forward. “What is that all about?”

Ivanna let out a small sigh. “That would be our pact with the Lord Strahd. It’s not something all of us are proud of, mind you. But not something we are willing to break.”

“And helping his enemies doesn’t count?” Lev asked wryly.

“Well, as far as we know you aren’t his enemies. You’re outsiders. You haven’t taken action against him, haven’t raised an army. You are simply newcomers. And we did not openly aid the wizard,” Ivanna shook her head. “We gave him as much aid as we could without breaking our pact.”

“How did you come to make a pact with such a creature?” Kcaj asked.

“It was a long time ago,” Hans replied. “We came to these lands long ago, traveling through the mist that borders this land. It was when we came here that we came upon a wounded soldier, half-dead and covered in blood. We took him in, tending to his wounds and feeding him as he was half-starved. We spoke with him, and he described how he had been wounded in battle against an enemy. Long ago, Barovia was once separated into several countries and the man sought to conquer the land for his own. He was doing quite well, too. We aided him, returning him to his home. We fought side by side, protecting each other as he took control of the land.”

Irene snorted a bit. “Why am I not surprised that he’s a conqueror,” she muttered.

“And when he was lord of these lands, of Barovia, he formed a covenant with us. In return for aiding him, for helping him gain power in these lands, he granted us the right of safe passage,” Hans continued. “We Vistani can travel these lands, safe from the beasts Strahd controls. None bother us as long as we leave them be. We can also travel to and from this land, through the mists that bring Giorgio here.”

“And before you ask,” Maratesh chuckled. “That only applies to blood-borne Vistani. If you’re not one, the mists will disable and kill you if you travel too far inward.”

Halben huffed. “Well, damn.”

Marianne chuckled. “Unfortunately. As long as we do not oppose Strahd, the covenant is upheld. It has been upheld for centuries. The only exceptions are those who openly defy or oppose him, and those we do not associate with.”

“So you are allies then,” Ireena said, her expression stone. Ivanna shook her head.

“No, child. We are not allied with him. Strahd is,” she paused. “We knew him once as a different man. He was a man of honor, of sorts. Not the...thing he has become. But despite what he is, he still maintains that sense of honor. He upholds the covenant as long as we do. And we do,” Ivanna squirmed a bit. “We...it is not as though we do not sympathize with the plight of others, who suffer under his rule and his beasts. But we must see our own. We are not plagued by the beasts of this land, and we dare not ruin that.”

“That’s…” Irene sighed. “That’s not entirely a bad thing. I can certainly understand that.”

“Sadly, so can I,” Ireena agreed. “I can’t say I would do much different in those circumstances.”

“Is that also why you do not associate with those who act against Strahd?” Feyre asked. “To keep safe?”

Ivanna shook her head. “Not just that. Those who openly defy him, most anyway, tend to be those who...break with our ways. Exiles, who choose dark paths of thievery and lies, who cheat and rob and perpetuate the foul rumors surrounding our kind. Mortu,” she seemed to almost spit the word. “Liars and cheats, those who would gladly stab you in the back for nothing. Some break with us to choose another path and do so peacefully. Those we still consider family and friends. But Mortu, we have no contact with.”

“That doesn’t happen very often, mind you. I think Marik was the last one I ever heard about,” Hans added. “Word travels fast when one becomes Mortu, so all clans know who to shun. Marik Val...Valoppikov, I think, or something like that. It was a while ago, and my memory can fail sometimes.” his cheeks flushed and he rubbed the back of his head.

Lev’s head snapped to Hans. “What was that name?”

“Valoppikov?” Hans frowned a bit. “I’m pretty sure that is the man’s name, the Mortu. Hasn’t been seen locally for a while. Why do you ask? You know someone by that name?”

Irene’s eyes widened and she straightened, turning to Lev. Lev turned to her, giving her a dark glare and a small shake of his head and when he spoke, his voice was cold. “No. I don’t know any man by that name. Thought I heard it before, but it’s someone completely different.”

Irene bit her lip but gave a small nod and looked away. Lev remained tense but looked back to Hans. “No. I don’t know anyone of that name.”

“Well...alright,” Hans slowly nodded, his face stoic but he didn’t press further. “I also came over here to speak to you lot. While accommodations are being set up for you, Madam Eva would like to speak with you, if you don’t mind.”

Marianne and Ivanna’s eyes widened while Maratesh whistled. “Damn, Madam Eva wants to talk to them? You guys must be in for something big,” he smiled at the party. “Madam Eva is a seer, one we are honored and lucky to camp with. She doesn’t see just anyone. Lucky.”

Hans chuckled. “She wants to see you too, Maratesh. You and them,” he guffawed when Maratesh gave him a shocked expression. “No, she didn’t tell me why. Just that she wants to see you all.”

“Hmph. I am not sure I would put much weight in the words of a fortune teller. I mean no disrespect, but it seems more apt for carnivals.” Kcaj said.

Feyre chuckled. “It can’t hurt. Who knows? Maybe she is a seer and can tell us our futures. With us guiding miss Ireena, we could use the help.”

Irene frowned. “...She is right, Kcaj. Divination is a valid school of magic, though it can be difficult to master. I also don’t put much stock in fortune tellers, but what harm could it do?”

Ivanna chuckled. She and the others looked amused rather than offended. Hans stood and gestured to the others. “If you’ll follow me, I will take you to Madam Eva.”


	15. Tarroka Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang gets a card reading and have some decisions to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Got this done, and almost done with my story for NaNo! Almost there!

Hans led them to one of the larger tents in the center of the encampment. Irene fought the urge to grimace. Not at the clash of colors or the various ribbons flying from it. Color and brightness seemed to be a trademark of the Vistani and it was one that Irene found that she liked. It was cheerful, happy, and a happy sight amongst the barren and dreary landscape of Barovia. All around her, the people were laughing, singing, and even dancing and Irene found it very difficult to fight the urge to join in. In all, she felt lighter than before she set foot in this cursed land.

What made her want to grimace were the pictures of tarot cards and spirits decorating the tent, reminding her of a carnival. Hans led them to the tent and rapped on the entrance cover. After a moment, a somewhat raspy voice emerged from the tent.

“I am here, dear Hans. Let them in, I am prepared for them.”

Hans then drew back the entrance and gestured for them to enter. Once they were all inside, he closed the flap behind them and walked away. The inside of the tent was dimly lit with candles situated on a table in the center. The walls and ceiling of the tent were decorated with various knick-knacks and decorations, with pictures of more tarot cards and various magical creatures.

Sitting at the table was a woman approaching about fifty, her greying hair tucked under a bright red headscarf. She was clad in varying shades of red and she smiled at the group as they entered. 

“Welcome outsiders, welcome. I am Madame Eva. I am so pleased that you accepted my invitation,” she gestured to the front of the table, where several chairs were scattered. “Please, sit, I have much to discuss with you. You are quite vital to the future of this land, after all.”

Lev rolled his eyes. “Oh, do we now? Did you see that in your crystal ball?”

Eva chuckled. “Dear Arik, you should know that there is always more to the world than you perceive.”

Lev’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that name?”

“I can see a great many things, dear Arik. Some do not place much stock in Divination, but as I’m sure some of you know, there is always more to learn about a school of magic. Isn’t that right, Irene?” Eva turned to the young woman with a smile. “Alistair would tell you much the same. Do not judge by mere appearances, dear girl. The Weave is quite vast and we cannot see all of its workings.”

Irene gaped. “How...how…”

Maratesh coughed. “Madame Eva, you said you wanted to speak with us? About the land?”

Eva nodded. “Yes, dear Maratesh. Please, all of you sit. We have much to discuss about you and this land, even you, Ireena. Please,” she gestured to the chairs again, waiting until they had all taken a seat.

Ireena squirmed. “So...is this where you tell our futures or something?” she winced. “I mean...you said that you wanted to talk, that we were vital to the future of this land, right?”

Eva nodded. “Indeed, child. Your set futures, now there is no such thing. Almost all futures are malleable, susceptible to change. There are...certain things that cannot be escaped, certain futures that are all but set in stone. But, we are all mortals. We have a choice, free will. It is our actions that shape our futures. We can spin our own tales, our lives, into the vast Weave of life. You, for example,” she looked directly at Ireena. “Understand, child, that I would tell you all that I know, had I the knowledge. I wish I could tell you the answers you seek. One thing that I do know for sure, is that the Lord of this land desires you. If he acquires you, you will die.”

Ireena’s face went pale and she looked sick, her hands going to her throat. Eva gave her a sympathetic look. “Not the undeath he can bestow, but true death. He would try if he had the chance, but any attempts to make you his will end in your death.”

“All the more reason we keep her away from the monster, then,” Kcaj said firmly. “It is more than enough that he has tormented her for so long, we will not allow him to cause her death.”

Feyre nodded. “Agreed. We will not allow it.”

“Luckily, death for her is not a certainty. Perhaps one day, she is mortal after all, but this need not be so soon into the future,” Eva said with a smile. “Especially if she has such stalwart protectors. As for you lot,” she reached into a pouch and took out a deck of cards. “Let us see what the cards have to say about how to complete your task.”

Halben frowned. “Our task? Do you mean protecting Ireena? Easy, we take her to a church. We don’t need fortune-telling for that,” he snorted. 

Eva chuckled. “No child, though you may find that more difficult than you think. I speak of another task, the task you were brought here for, what you were all brought here for,” she looked at Maratesh. “It is why you were guided to us, dear one. You were brought here to attempt what many would say is impossible: Killing Strahd Von Zarovich.”

Irene swore that she heard more than a few jaws crack with how hard they dropped. “...You’re serious,” she managed after a few moments. Eva was calmly shuffling the deck of cards. “You...you’re saying we were brought here to…to kill Strahd?”

“Oh yes,” Eva nodded. 

“Kill Strahd? Strahd Von Zarovich? Lord of Barovia?”

“The very same.”

“The monster who apparently was in a literal firefight with a wizard and came out literally unscathed? A monster who can control the very land itself?”

“I did not say it would be easy. If it were, he would be gone and this land would be free of him,” Eva said calmly as she began to deal out five cards in front of her. “He is powerful. He has powers few do or have seen. I do not know what deals he has made, or how he has such control over Barovia. But I do know that he must be destroyed if life is to improve by any margin here.”

Maratesh choked. “But the covenant with Strahd, you’re actively plotting against him!” he tried to keep his voice low. “I know that we don’t actively side with him, but I think he’ll see this as actively going against him! He just might slaughter the entire camp, if not all Vistani!”

Eva smiled and reached over to stroke his muzzle. “Dear one, your concern is sweet and fills me with joy. But you need not worry. All I am doing is giving clues as to how you may bring him down. I am plotting nothing. I am merely giving you hints to where clues may lie.”

Lev frowned. “Or you could just tell us everything you know about him, and about Ireena. No need for any of this.”

“If I could, I would. I would tell you all that I know, every secret I possessed. Alas,” Eva winced. “Maratesh does have a point. I know some things, some secrets. If I told you, everyone here would be at risk of facing his wrath. And that I will not allow. But this,” she gestured to the cards. “This I can give to you. You are not obligated to do anything this suggests. You are free to ignore this entire meeting and simply make new lives in Barovia. Granted, you already have his lordship’s attention,” she glanced at Irene and Ireena. “So, it would behoove you to listen.”

Once she was sure she had everyone’s attention, Eva took a deep breath and held her hands over the cards. “Fate has brought you to this land, of this I am sure. I am meant to be your guide, to show you the possible paths and clues that will aid you in the task set before you: To kill Strahd Von Zarovich.”

Hearing it again, especially in the low, hypnotic tone Ev adopted, didn’t help Irene’s nerves. This was madness! No doubt, she felt no love or sympathy for the monster that terrorized so many. She would gladly see him dead. But with his power, was such a thing even possible? He was no god, he couldn’t be. But she remembered the story of that wizard, who had called upon the elements themselves to destroy him yet nothing even scarred him. Perhaps it had been just storytelling, but something deep within told her that killing him was no simple task. There was every chance they would fail, die...or worse.

“It is here, now, that I present to you that which will help you in this great task,” Eva reached for the leftmost card and flipped it over. "This card tells of history. Knowledge of the ancient will help you better understand your enemy." The design was rather gruesome, depicting a man working what looked to be a rack. Behind him were instruments of torture. “The Torturer. There is a town where all is not well. There you will find a house of corruption, and within, a dark room full of still ghosts."

Ireena shivered and looked a little sick. It wasn’t far off from how Irene felt. This was off to a great start. Eva reached for the bottommost card. "This card tells of a powerful force for good and protection, a holy symbol of great hope. It longs to return to its rightful place." She flipped it over, revealing a beautiful woman. Irene’s blood went cold when she spotted the woman’s dark red hair, almost identical to hers and Ireena’s. She stood in a casting pose, surrounded by glowing lights and magical-looking items. "The Enchanter. I see a kneeling woman-a rose of great beauty plucked too soon. The master of the marsh knows of whom I speak."

Lev’s nose crinkled. “I hate marshes,” he grumbled, grunting when Maratesh elbowed him.

Eva seemed not to notice the exchange, instead of reaching for the top-most card. "This is a card of power and strength. It tells of a weapon of vengeance: a sword of sunlight." She flipped the card, revealing a hooded man dressed in a heavy, fine cloak. Clasped in front of him was a shimmering sword. "The Hooded One. I see a faceless god. He awaits you at the end of a long and winding road, deep in the mountains."

Ireena’s eyes went huge as Kcaj leaned forward with interest. “A sword of sunlight...that would be a powerful weapon against him.”

The rightmost card was next. "This card sheds light on one who will help you greatly in the battle against darkness.” Flipped to reveal a skull floating in a jar. Irene grimaced at the gruesomeness. "The Artifact. Look for an entertaining man with a monkey. This man is more than he seems."

There was a heavy feeling of solemnity as Eva reached for the fifth and centermost card. Irene could feel even her hair standing on end and she realized that all of them were leaning forward, awaiting the last card. When Eva spoke, her voice dropped lower, harsher, darker.

"Your enemy is a creature of darkness; whose powers are beyond mortality. This card will lead you to him!" She flipped it and Irene’s blood went cold at the sight of a skeletal figure, drenched in blood and wielding a sword. The horse it sat upon was gaunt, yet its eyes were something unnatural. "The Horseman. He lurks in the one place to which he must return-a place of death."

Eva spread her hands. “These are the tools the powers have granted you, to guide you to bring the end of the Lord of Barovia. The choices are yours to make, victory is never assured no matter what path you take. Make your choices of your own free will, and at your own peril.”

There was a pause, then she let out a loud groan and slumped forward. Maratesh lunged forward, gently catching her before she smacked her head off of the table. He went around to gently lean her back in her chair. Eva was pale and breathing heavily. Irene shot out of her chair, one hand on her symbol as she gathered her magic. Maratesh shook his head. 

“Don’t, she’s just exhausted. She needs a lot of rest,” he tried to hide how disturbed he was by the prediction. “I’ll get her to her bed, you guys go on,” he nodded to the tent entrance. “We can...talk later. It looks like we all have some decisions to make.”

“No kidding,” Halben said as he headed for the entrance, one hand twirling a dagger. “That was insane. Am I the only one that thought that?”

“Definitely not, dearie. But,” Feyre frowned. “Some of what she said, I could feel the power in her words. That was no carnival fortune-telling.”

Kcaj made a small humming noise. “It is indeed much to think upon. While I am not one to rush into a task without thinking it through, we may wish to consider what Madam Eva has told us...and if we wish to undertake it.”

Ireena looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re serious? You would take on the Devil?” she gaped at him. 

Kcaj nodded. “Of course I would. Such a monster should not be permitted to torment innocents. This Strahd character needs to be destroyed for the good of all. I would more than happily take up this task. I admit all that I have heard does indeed make this a daunting task. Even with the...reading, which I fully admit I still do not place much stock in, it would indeed behoove us to learn more of this land. To delve into its secrets and learn of how we may destroy this monster.”

Irene nodded. “I agree. Those cards may have given us some clues though. I’ll have to remember them. But Kcaj is right. We need to learn more about Strahd if we want to defeat him.”

Ireena gaped. “...you would...you would all…”

Lev grinned. “Why not? It’s not like we can leave Barovia, anyway. We could make new lives here if we wanted. But, I don’t like the sound of this guy being in charge. Creeps like him shouldn’t be in charge of anything, let alone a kingdom.”

“Indeed. He is an unnatural thing that has far outlived his natural lifespan, and he must be put down,” Feyre’s eyes flashed for a moment. “Him, and all of his foul beasts. They must be put to rest, one way or another.”

Halben smirked. “I’m in if everyone else is. Sounds like that Maratesh guy is joining us too, so more help there.”

Irene smiled at Ireena, who just looked as if someone smacked her with a fish. “There you have it. Of course, getting you to safety is a priority, but it seems as though we have a goal to be working towards while we’re here. I know I wouldn’t mind killing that monster. We may as well try,” she clasped Ireena’s shoulder. “Besides, you can’t live your entire life hiding. If we can decipher those cards she read to us, and if we can find a way, you’ll be free of that beast forever. You can finally live your own life.”

“I…”

“And we will not be forcing you into the fight, Lady Ireena,” Kcaj insisted. “Of course, you are more than willing to join us. But if we can find you a safe haven, you may reside there until we either die or destroy Strahd. We shall respect your decision.”

“I…” Ireena looked stunned, then shook her head. “I think I need to sleep, to think about this.”

“Not a bad idea,” Irene agreed. “I say we find someplace to sleep and in the morning, we can talk more about what we plan to do.”

It didn’t take them long to find somewhere to sleep. The Vistani were already winding down for the night by the time they began to make their small camp. Maratesh stopped by to let them know he would speak to them in the morning before quickly heading off. The Dragonborn seemed unnerved and no doubt his own thoughts were racing. Hans stopped by briefly to wish them goodnight, and to have them stop by his cart in the morning for wares and supplies.

They still planned a watch, despite being in friendly territory. Irene took first watch with Lev, being too wired yet to sleep. She immediately started writing in her journal as soon as she could, writing down the reading and every note she thought of during and since then. Of course, aside from one card, she had no idea how to go about solving the mystery of the cards, but that would come as they explored the land. They did seem to be in for the long haul, and she didn’t know what to think about that. The land still unnerved her greatly, and she still could not shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if Barovia itself was watching her. No doubt the lord was as well. 

She didn’t like Barovia. It was gloomy, and ever since waking up in these lands she constantly felt unnerved and watched. Something within her, something she still could not yet identify, was constantly on edge and practically screaming in terror. Part of her wanted nothing more than to hide; from Strahd, from whatever dark force lay within the lands and gave her these feelings. And yet, she also knew that she could escape none of it. Maybe it was Fate, maybe some forces of the universe conspired to bring them all here. Whatever it was, she was sure that it wouldn’t let her leave these lands so easily.

“You thinking about it too?”

Irene jumped in her seat and shook her head, turning to Lev. The bard was staring up into the sky. “That reading, this whole night, hell everything since we got here. You’re over-thinking all of it, aren’t you?” he managed a half-grin. “I haven’t known you for long, but I have the feeling you do that a lot.”

Irene blushed but she chuckled a bit. “You’re not wrong. Alistair always said that all the thinking I do gives HIM a headache.”

“Eva mentioned him. Your dad?”

Irene grimaced before she could stop it. “No. Well, honestly he is the closest I’ve ever had to a father,” her grimace turned into a warm smile. “He is the one who introduced me to my faith. I have him to thank for a lot of things,” she gave him a look. “...may I assume that you prefer ‘Lev?’”

Lev winced but nodded. “I do if you please.”

Irene nodded. “Of course. But yet, you are right. I can’t help it. My mind is just going over the possibilities. We do have our choices, but to be honest...I don’t feel right letting that monster live. I don’t think I could, not after tonight. That reading...Eva has power. Tonight, she did something. She…”

“She set something in motion, yeah? It’s like...thus far, we were here and…” Lev frowned. “It’s like we were playing pieces that weren’t set on the board yet. Like we didn’t have our spots yet. But now, we do. That’s the feeling I’m getting from this whole thing. Like we’re playing pieces in some crazy game.”

“I think you’re right,” Irene said softly. “It’s awful to think about, but it’s got truth to it. We’re pieces in a game, only we don’t know who is controlling us. Strahd? Something else? Who knows?”

Lev shrugged. “We’re in it now. All we can really do is just keep moving forward. The moves will still be ours after all We just have to do the best that we can.”

Irene nodded. “It’s all we can do, I think. Do the best we can, and hope we don’t get killed.”

“Or worse.”


	16. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the reading, the party continues towards Vallaki to try and deliver Ireena to a safe haven.

“Ah, there you are...at last.”

Irene barely smothered a scream as she jolted awake. She managed to calm her racing heart by focusing on the pounding in her head and the way her stomach seemed to twist and churn. She was starving and no matter how many rations she shoved into her mouth, it didn’t seem to be enough. She just barely managed to stop herself after devouring an entire day’s worth. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lev devouring one of the pies ravenously. Before she knew that she was doing it, she had already eaten half of one of the few pies remaining. Immediately, she felt her spirits lift. It was as though things seemed less...heavy, she supposed. With a wide smile, went through cleaning herself up for the day, becoming more cheered when she saw that her clothes had been washed. The Vistani had really welcomed them and made them feel at home.

Once they were cleaned up, the group sat in a circle to discuss the day’s plans. They would finish up in the Vistani camp, then head towards Vallaki. According to Maratesh, who had joined them after eating his own meal, it would take another two days to reach Vallaki. They would have to camp on the road at least once.

“It would be a smart idea then,” Kcaj mentioned. “To speak with Hans before leaving. We can procure supplies from him.”

Maratesh nodded. “Hans travels between caravans, so he always has a good variety. He always gives out good deals, too, since you guys are friends of the Vistani.”

“And will you be joining us, Maratesh?” Feyre asked, nibbling on some jerky. The silver Dragonborn sighed and nodded. 

“I will. Madam Eva said I should, that I would be important to your journey. That I was brought here to help. Though,” he winced. “I didn’t imagine I’d ever be going up against Strahd. I mean, do not get me wrong, I do not like the guy. No one here does,” he gestured to the camp. “Sure, the guy has his cultists and supporters, among Vistani and common folk alike. But most?” he sighed. “These lands are dangerous, you’ve seen only a little of it. I…” he squirmed. “I don’t remember how I got here or...really any of what happened when I did. I remember, that I came here with a party, my friends? I think? I know they’re gone now…”

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Feyre grasped his hand. “Truly, I am.”

Maratesh gave her a small smile. “Thanks. I don’t really remember any of it as I said. I think the trauma messed with my memory. I do remember the Vistani taking me in, being kind to me. But I do know that my friends are dead, and most likely, the lord of the land is to blame for that. Anyone here will agree that he’s a monster. They won’t break the pact, there’s too much at risk for little to no reward, and they respect him as lord, but they aren’t allies. Personally, I won’t shed any tears over his death and if I can help, then I will.”

Halben grinned. “It’ll be good to have you, Maratesh. The more the merrier!”

Ireena smiled. “Extra help is always appreciated, thank you.”

“So, the first step, reach Vallaki and get Ireena somewhere safe,” Irene was jotting down notes. “While we’re there, we can start to try and decipher the card reading to see what we can find.”

“If you say so, Lady Irene,” Kcaj said skeptically. “Though I will be frank, I do not place trust in such a superstitious thing.”

Irene looked up at the Warforged. “There was power in that reading last night, Kcaj. She has powers, and she knew things that no one here knew. True, she could have read my mind to get Alistair’s name, but there was power in those cards. We would be fools to dismiss them if we are truly going to try and kill Strahd. You heard the story, we’re going to need everything we can get our hands-on. Including that sword of sunlight, if it truly exists.”

“And that ally?” Lev pointed out. “That reading did say something about someone who could help us. That could be the easiest to find. How many monkeys are in Barovia, anyway?”

“Not many, as far as I know,” Ireena said.

Kcaj sighed. “An excellent point, my companions. Though I still hold to my skepticism, we would be most loathe to dispose of potential leads for aid. But I am much less schooled in the ways of magic and mysticism. I will leave that to Lady Irene and those who would know more about such things.”

Lev rubbed his hands together. “So, we visit Hans, stock up, and head out?”

Irene nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me,” she put her journal away and stood. “I still have jewelry from the Durst home to trade.”

It didn’t take the party long to find Hans. His cart was a fairly large one, a team of horses grazing nearby and looking quite content. The cart was decorated with bright colors and festive flags that seemed to indicate a Vistani. The man himself was seeing to the items he had on display, carefully arranging things and moving nimbly among his boxes. He smiled and spread his arms wide when he spotted them walking over.

“My friends! Be welcome! Please, peruse my wares! I have a wide variety and if you need something I don’t have, no worries!” he smiled broadly. “I have many contacts and, for a small downpayment, I can arrange with any Vistani camp and seller I associate with to have the item delivered to me so I can get it to you!”

Maratesh grinned. “Is that new, Hans?”

“Nah, I’ve had it in the works for a while now. Ever since Marianne wanted that fancy cake from Krezck. I’m still working on a name for it, though. I’ve been calling it ‘Prime Delivery,’ but I don’t know about that.”

“Hey, that’s a pretty good name for it,” Lev said as he looked at the wares on display. “Not bad.”

Irene chuckled as she dug the remaining jewelry out of her pack. “Can I ask how much you would give for these? No sentimental value, just so you know.”

Hans perked up and carefully looked over the jewelry. “Oh, these are nice! Some of these designs are rather old fashioned, you don’t see them anymore! May I ask where you got these?”

“An old house we came across when we first got here. The inhabitants were long dead, they won’t be missing it. They...had been dead for a long time.”

Hans smiled and nodded. “I understand. This land is...quite brutal. But these are in such good shape, and the designs...oh lass, I will easily give you four hundred gold pieces for the lot.”

Irene gaped and nodded wordlessly. Hans gave her a huge smile and carefully set the jewelry down, reaching for a large coin purse. Soon, it was tied to her waist, their new funds secure.

“There you are, girlie! Some funds to help you while you travel the lands,” he smiled at her. “If you get the chance, I suggest you visit other camps. I know the rumors, but a lot of us are good people. The way this land is, the way it can get to people...you ever need cheering up, just find a Vistani camp. I know you lot have a hard road ahead, and you’re going to have hardships, I won’t lie. But you have to hold onto hope.”

“We’ll certainly try, at the very least,” Irene nodded. “Everything is a bit...daunting, I won’t lie. Who knows what Barovia has in store for us?”

Hans patted her gently on the shoulder. “Just don’t give up, girlie. Even in the darkest of times, light can shine through. Even if we have to make it ourselves.”

Irene toyed with the coin pouch, her mind wandering as her companions looked through Hans’ supplies, collecting wares and rations. “Hans, your pact with Strahd...Ivanna said you guys haven’t allied with him anymore, because of what he is-”

“What he’s become, more like,” Hans nodded. “He was once an honorable man, according to our histories. Though, that is through our perspective. To some, he may have always been a monster. But we once knew an honorable man, a general willing to do what was necessary for his people. He still is, he still honors the pact he has with us. He was harsh, but fair, in his own way. As tyrants go, he wasn’t necessarily a bad one. What he is now…” Hans shook his head. “Even he’ll admit freely what he is, what he’s become. The beasts that prowl this land, what he does to people, I wish I had the power to change it. But who knows? Maybe you’ll be the ones to succeed. Gods know, I’d like to see the sunshine here and not have to go to other planes to see it.”

Irene nodded. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and they were all focused on Strahd. That deep part of her, the part that had screamed upon seeing that statue, that wanted nothing more than to hide from the thing that always seemed to watch her, probably thought that she was utterly insane right now. Maybe she was, maybe they all were. Barely a week into this land, and they were plotting to kill its monstrous overlord. Granted, Irene felt no guilt at the thought. Strahd was a monster. He needed to die, for all that he had done to these people, to her and him both…

It frightened her, if she was honest. If she looked deep into herself, to the same part of her that was so terrified by this land...she could feel something else too. Something...bloodthirsty, underneath it all? Was it that? If she dug deeper, there was something there. Something dark. It was terrifying and so angry-

“Lady Irene? Are you well?”

Irene jolted from her thoughts and turned to Kcaj. The Warforged stood nearby, his head tilted to one side. “Lady Irene? You did not answer my attempts to engage you in conversation. Are you well?”

“Um, yes, I am,” Irene nodded. She patted her coin purse. “We’re set money-wise for a long while. How goes supplying?”

Kcaj stared a bit, then nodded. “We are well-stocked. Master Hans is most kind with his wares. We have food and water aplenty. Alas,” he shook his head. “We will have to wait to find an armorer. We will make do with what we have in the meantime. I have supplies to buff my armor and sort dents and scratches, thankfully.”

She chuckled. “Good to know. We may come across someone in Vallaki who can get you what you need.”

“That is my hope, Lady Irene. For the task we are to embark on, we may need sturdier armaments than what we currently have.”

“You may get lucky,” Hans interjected. “But you’d have better luck with the Vistani. We have more access to things due to our ability to travel through the mists. I’ll keep an eye out for you, to be sure.”

“My thanks, Master Hans. That would be a great boon for us.”

“If we’re ready to go, we should head out,” Maratesh said. “If we make good time, we can reach Vallaki by tomorrow.”

“The sooner, the better,” Ireena agreed. “Vallaki is supposed to be one of the safest places in Barovia. Strahd hasn’t been seen there in at least a hundred years, as I’ve heard. It’s better defended than the village is.”

“You may find a haven there,” Hans slowly said. Irene frowned a bit at how tense he seemed. “Good luck to you all. Stay as safe as you can, you hear? And you,” he turned to Maratesh. “Don’t forget to say goodbye to Ivanna.”

“As if he could leave without doing so.”

Maratesh chuckled and turned. Ivanna pulled him into a tight hug and Irene saw her blink away tears. “Maratesh, you are always welcome among us. You may not be born Vistani, but you are as good as. You are Romanio, you are always welcome back.”

“One who has left on good terms with us,” Hans whispered to Irene, seeing her confusion. “Pretty much, he has an open invitation to come back to us. He’ll be welcome into any camp in Barovia.”

Maratesh hugged the woman tightly and when he spoke, his voice was a bit shaky. “Thank you, for everything. I wouldn’t have made it without you all. Thank you.”

“Oh dear one,” Ivanna sniffled and kissed his snout, making the Dragonborn blush and grumble. There were a few more goodbyes, but they soon started back down the path they had come by the night before. They followed Maratesh back to the intersection and he immediately led them down the fork, towards Vallaki. 

Once again, Irene found herself entranced by the landscape surrounding her. Something about it felt...peaceful, in a strange way. There was a strangeness to it, though. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She huffed a bit in frustration. Her mind felt as though it were going in circles, constantly contradicting itself and making her confused as emotions seemed to come from no logical source. Half of the things she felt made no sense and it was slowly driving her mad. She needed to focus if she was going to have any hope of contributing to their seemingly impossible task.

It was mad if she was honest. Strahd was powerful, with so many unanswered questions and mysteries that needed to be solved if they were to have any hope of killing him. The clues were there, she was sure of it. They just needed to find them and piece them together. They can’t have been the first ones to try, others must have taken a similar journey. Maybe they left something behind, more clues to help them? 

Her eyes trailed over to Ireena, who was chatting with Lev and Feyre. Why was Strahd after her? Madame Eva said he wanted her, to turn her and make her his. The way she spoke, it sounded like an obsession. Did he know why? Did he know that he would kill Ireena if he tried to turn her? Why was he after her? Was it just to add to his harem? She did recall Ireena saying that he occasionally took interest in mortals, men and women alike if she recalled correctly. Was it because she refused him? She can’t have been the first, though she would not be surprised if it was at least partly because of that. Men like Strahd no doubt were not used to being told they could not have something. Her lip curled as raven black hair and golden scales flashed in her mind for a brief moment. She shook the thoughts away quickly. Whatever the reason, he would not have Ireena. 

She would ignore the strange emotions, the swells of fear and hatred. There was no time for them or to figure out their origins. She had more important matters right now.

The remainder of the day passed peacefully enough. They had briefly stopped by a river to eat lunch and refill on water. Further down the river, they had come across a bridge being guarded by two stone gargoyles near a waterfall. It had taken Kcaj walking up to one and shoving it down the falls to convince the group that the ornaments were just that. Lev grumbled at how paranoid they were all getting and no one could find it in them to disagree. 

Maratesh led them on for a few more hours before eventually calling for a stop in the middle of the woods. “I really don’t suggest camping in the woods. We should go a bit off the side of the road, should be fine.”

By the time night had fallen, they had a camp and fire set up with dinner cooking. Halben taught Ireena some basic rapier lessons, to make sure she had the basics down at the very least. They exchanged idle chit chat about the day and set up watches, Irene volunteering for the first along with Ireena. Once her watch started, Irene brought out her journal to jot down a few notes. Across from her, Ireena tilted her head. “You write an awful lot. Is it all notes about your journey so far?”

“Pretty much, yes,” Irene nodded. “It’s also some personal thoughts that are brought up, thoughts, and notes about things I’ve experienced that could be connected. I’ll be doing much more of that, now that we’re on this quest to kill Strahd,” she sighed. “It’s certainly daunting, but hopefully we will succeed. I wouldn’t shed any tears over his demise, that’s for sure. But it’s not going to be easy, and anything we dig up can help tremendously. I don’t want to miss vital clues that could lead to our victory.”

“You seem confident, at least,” Ireena said. “Honestly, I...please know, it’s not that I don’t have faith in you all or anything like that. I think, I honestly do think that if anyone could beat him, it’s you all but, I grew up with his presence everywhere. People who believe that he’s a god. Hell, if I’m honest, I’m not so sure he isn’t one.”

It’s like an impossible dream, yeah? You’ve lived one with for so long, that no matter how much you want it, you simply can’t imagine it any other way.”

Ireena nodded. “I guess you’ve had a similar experience? But you think it’s still possible?”

Irene smiled. “I once believed that there was no way for my life to change, that I was doomed to follow a path that had been set out for me. Yet, here I am. Anything is possible, I think. Naive of me? Maybe. But no one decides my fate for me, not even Strahd. It’ll be hard, and frightening. I won’t lie, there’s a part of me that is downright terrified of all this. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.”

Ireena gave her a small smile. “Thank you. I really do mean it. All of you are risking so much for me, for all of us. I admit...I don’t know if I would be of any help. I’m not a fighter, even with Halben teaching me a few things. But whatever I can do, please know that I will.”

Irene smiled warmly. “Don’t feel like you have to put yourself at risk. I understand, believe me. After being hounded by that creep your whole life, I totally understand if you’d prefer to hide somewhere safe. None of us would judge you for wanting to feel safe.”

The two chatted for a while longer before waking the second watch and turning in. Irene was surprised that she could get any sleep with the way her thoughts tossed and turned. Her dreams were full of shadows and voices, though she could never make out words. It was all a jumble of sounds and whispers. She could tell that it was important, but her frustration grew at her inability to make anything out. She wanted to scream, to chase the shadows and demand they tell her...something, anything. But they slipped through her fingers, the whispers getting louder as she did but making no more sense. They were taunting her, and she was so obsessed with getting answers that she didn’t notice the shadows wrapping around her legs at first, traveling up her body until she felt them tighten around her like arms. She struggled and felt them tighten, felt something sharp graze at the skin of her neck-

“Wake up! We’re under attack!”

Irene rolled to her feet, bringing up her quarterstaff defensively. It was just in time, as something small lunged at her. She quickly slammed her quarterstaff, activating her Shillelagh spell, and swung. The creature burst into twigs and dirt. Irene stared at the pile of dirt and looked at the chaos that had attacked their party. There were creatures seemingly made entirely of twigs and branches attacking their camp. Halben was yelping, trying to shake off one that had latched itself to his leg while the others swatted at the others. They snarled and hissed, throwing what looked like darts.

“What in hell are these things!?” Lev shouted as he stabbed a twig creature. 

“Twig Blights! That’s what we call them!” Maratesh growled and grabbed a few of the knee-high things to smash together. “There’s usually a mud witch controlling them!” 

“A what!?” Halben snarled, stabbing the Blight on his leg with his rapier. 

“These things are just toys! Servants!” Irene swung her staff to smash a few more Blights to kindling. More seemed to be rising and she looked around for anything that could match what Maratesh had named as their summoner. They still had the fire going and a ways off, Irene could see a shape in the shadows. She held up a hand and her symbol glowed. “Firebolt!” A mote of fire exploded from her outstretched palm and a jet of fire shot through the trees. The shade hissed and dived to the side but Irene was already running for the shape. As it began to rise she swung again with her staff, green flames erupting from the weapon. It burned the creature and the flames traveled from her to the twig creatures beside her, charring them as they lunged.

Her staff made contact with the thing’s side and it shrieked as the green flame burned. It stumbled back and Irene could make out some of its features. It looked like a human woman, though how old she was, Irene couldn’t tell. Her skin was caked with dirt, her hair was a rat’s nest full of leaves and twigs. She was dressed in furs and holding a gnarled wooden staff, which had clumps of feathers tied to it. She bared her teeth, exposing a mouthful of rotting things covered in black moss.

Irene bared her own teeth in a snarl and lunged again, swinging her staff. The thing hissed and dodged the glowing weapon, giving her a nasty look and a snarl. She made a rude hand gesture and turned to flee, throwing a handful of glittering sand at Irene’s face. Irene dove to the side, growling as the witch ran into the woods. Somewhere to her left, there was a blur of movement, and in front of the witch appeared Feyre. The half-elven woman swung her scythe and decapitated the witch before she could react. As the witch’s head tumbled to the earth, the twig creatures fell apart, the magic keeping them animated gone.

Maratesh grumbled and brushed twigs and dirt off of himself. “I hate twig blights. And mud witches are annoying.”

“Mud witches?” Irene asked as she headed over to the body of the mud witch. Feyre smiled at her as she cleaned her scythe before dismissing it. “Interesting name. They’re definitely druids, from what I can recognize of the magic they used.”

“You are certain, dear?” Feyre tilted her head.

Irene nodded. “I know some druid spells. The one I use on my quarterstaff is one such spell,” she looked over the mud witch’s body. There were some trinkets here and there, but her rags and matted furs held nothing of use. 

“They’re troublesome,” Maratesh noted. “They like to use twig blights and other kinds of plant creatures. But they do have offensive magic too. Granted, they steer clear of the Vistani, but they will attack anyone else. Us included, it looks like.”

“They’re gone now, and there’s still night left. So why don’t we get some sleep?” Lev yawned. “We’re safe enough for now.”

There were mutters of agreement as everyone began to head back to what they were doing before the attack. Irene settled into her sleeping roll, staring up at the trees and what little of the sky she could see through the mass of branches. It took her a while, but she eventually managed to pass into what she hoped would be a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow they would be in Vallaki, and from there decide their next steps.


	17. Heading Down the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues on.

Irene groaned in utter misery as she dragged herself awake. Moving felt as though she were dragging herself through a marsh. Waking up seemed harder than usual, especially after such pleasant dreams. She was back in the book shop with Alistair, the two of them pouring over one of the previous tomes he kept in his private collection. It had been an edition she was sure only her parents possessed, and one they had forbidden her from even looking at. In their words, her inexperience would lead to her ruining the valuable book. 

But Alistair had gladly allowed her to read it. He had been ecstatic to go over what she had learned, the ideas the old passages had brought to her young mind. They once spent five weeks on a single page, fiercely debating how several theories were challenged by the workings the book described. Neither of them could hide their smiles as they debated, and every night ended with a pot of hot tea and delicious cakes. It was one of her favorite memories.

Irene viciously attacked the last pie in her pack, eager to chase away the feeling of utter misery that suddenly descended on her. She missed Alistair. She missed the shop, the smell of tomes and scrolls and ink. She missed being around her sect, around people that encouraged her mind and her love of knowledge. She hadn’t seen them in months, her travels often took her away from them for some time. It was part and parcel of her sect. They often traveled to explore ruins, to seek out temples, and gain experience in their chosen fields of study. It was on one such expedition where she had encountered Kcaj. She had eventually wanted to bring him to her sect, to introduce him to the people that had helped shape her life. 

If she made it back home, if, what would they say once they heard her tale? It was certainly quite extraordinary. People didn’t exactly traverse between planes regularly. What would they say about Strahd? About his powers? What would they say about Ireena? She wished she could contact them with the numerous questions she had. Would they have any inkling as to the answers? Or would they be just as stumped as she was? 

She looked around the camp, at the others eating and collecting themselves for the day. Lev was scarfing down two pies while Ireena tried not to look. Halben and Feyre spoke softly amongst themselves, the latter seeming almost motherly as she brushed Halben’s face. The younger man flushed red and grumbled but seemed to accept the attention. Maratesh was smothering the fire and cleaning up camp while Kcaj was standing a ways away, keeping a watch. Irene hauled herself to her feet and walked over to the Warforged.

“Morning seems quiet. That’s good. No more of those twig blights or witches?”

“None, Lady Irene. Maratesh was on the last watch with me. He gave me a brief explanation of what we had encountered during the night. The beings they call ‘Mud witches’ use Druidry to create servants to do their bidding, attacking hapless travelers, and creating chaos. He claimed to not know their origin, or why they do what they do. He did say that it is likely that they are in some kind of allegiance with Strahd, as they do not dare attack any Vistani.”

Irene sighed. “Of course they do. I wouldn’t be surprised if they worshipped him,” she frowned as a few thoughts started to thread their way through her mind. “Hm, I wonder if…”

“Lady Irene?” Kcaj tilted his head.

“Nothing, just a thought to ponder on,” Her fingers twitched to jot down her thought. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for more of them on our journey. It doesn’t seem like they can be reasoned with if they are allied with that monster. We should be wary.”

Kcaj nodded in approval. “Indeed, Lady Irene. We may encounter more of them, with more power than the one that we faced last night. It will do us good to remain vigilant,” he paused for a moment. “...Lady Irene, there is something I feel you should know.”

Irene frowned at him. Kcaj was speaking in a lower tone than usual. While he wasn’t shouting, per se, Kcaj usually spoke loudly enough to ensure that he was heard, typically by beings taller than him. “What is it?” she replied, keeping her voice low.

“While Maratesh and I were on watch, an unusual thing occurred partway into it. We saw a most strange phenomenon, something akin to a shooting star.”

Irene blinked. “A...shooting star? Well, that must have been interesting. I’m sure such things happen in Barovia as well as home, though.”

“Perhaps, and though I am not well versed in astronomy and such weather phenomena, I do not believe they fly so close to the earth unless falling to it.”

“So...one landed?”

Kcaj shook his head. “There was no such impact, Lady Irene. It was a straight trajectory. A rather large ball of fire some miles above us. It came from the direction we are heading and was traveling in that direction,” he pointed to some distance away past the trees. “I do not think that is normal.”

Irene shuddered. “No, it definitely isn’t. Do we know what’s in that direction?”

Kcaj nodded. “Indeed. Maratesh informed me that in that direction is Castle Ravenloft. The home of Lord Strahd.”

Something in Irene’s chest seized. “So definitely not a good thing.”

“I concur. Maratesh is of the mind that we need not speak of it for now. It may be nothing, it may cause undue distress. But I wished to tell you and inquire as to your opinion. I...have to say that I do agree with the Dragonborn, but I wish for your opinion, Lady Irene.”

Irene wished she could say she was surprised by Kcaj’s reluctance to admit his agreement with Maratesh. She had to be blind to miss the way he acted around their newest teammate. It didn’t matter that his scales were metallic, he was still of dragon blood. Irene had long since given up on that front. Kcaj had experienced too much loss to exactly be logical when it came to the dragon races. One dragon was very much like another, in his opinion. If she didn’t know the Warforged so well, she would be concerned if having the monk around would cause problems. But she knew better. Maratesh was already pledged to their cause, had already demonstrated his willingness to help the party. Kcaj would not turn away such a valuable warrior.

She thought about the ball of fire Kcaj had mentioned. No doubt that was somehow Strahd’s work, somehow. Did he have a fiery chariot or something? She bit her lip as she contemplated telling the others, glancing at them. They were eating breakfast, laughing at some joke Lev told. “I...I think Maratesh is right. We are always watchful, I don’t know how much more we can be without magic or something. But I don’t think we should tell them now, not unless it becomes apparent that something is waiting for us or something.”

Kcaj nodded. “Then we shall keep it to ourselves for now. I will follow Maratesh’s and your leads on this. Thank you, Lady Irene.”

Irene nodded and they turned to rejoin the others. Packs were readied as Maratesh finished up. “Everyone ready to go?” he asked, tilting his head. “We should reach Vallaki by this evening, if not sooner. If we’re ready, let’s get going.”

Irene’s mind wandered as they headed back onto the road. She tried not to think about their task, their mission to kill Strahd. There were far too many variables and not enough data for Irene to think about that subject even remotely logically. Just the idea threatened to send her straight into hysterics sometimes. Granted, part of that was due to the illogical emotions this land seemed to cause her. But she had thought of some valid reasoning for that. The land itself was despair, it seemed. And she did recall Granny and Ismark commenting on how the land itself seemed to change people. Maybe this was an effect the land was having on her? She felt some fear and apprehension, yes. Maybe the land was just amplifying it, causing her mind to act illogically. It made sense, right? If she could keep herself focused on that, and on tasks that didn’t seem quite as daunting as what loomed before them, she would be fine.

Maybe she could think of more theories as to why she and Ireena looked the same? She chuckled a bit as some more ridiculous ideas came to mind, half of them inspired by her favorite novels. Nobody said they had to be serious theories, after all. In addition, it wasn’t exactly a pressing subject. More likely than not, it was merely a random happenstance of the universe. But it was fun to ponder.

“It’s good to find reasons to smile, dearie,” Feyre said from beside her. “I’m glad you can do so.”

Irene chuckled. “They’re silly thoughts, but they keep my mind occupied. Believe me, you don’t want to see me in a research frenzy. Drove my preceptor mad.”

Feyre giggled. “It sounds like you were quite a handful.”

“Oh, when I’ve got a theory to prove, and a library to research in, I can be a monster,” she grinned. “And it doesn’t help that I tend to rant like a madwoman.”

Feyre chuckled. “It just shows how passionate you are, my dear. You love what you do, clearly. This is a vocation that speaks to your soul.”

“What about you? I mean, do you have something like that?”

The older woman paused for a moment. “I do, in a way. More like a calling,” her smile widened. “You could say that I do, yes. It is not...your typical vocation. But I find meaning in it, belonging. Much the same way that you do around books.”

“Does it have to do with your magic?”

Feyre glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “What makes you ask that?”

Irene’s face went beet red. “That...sounded so bad. I’m sorry,” she groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. “Another case of my mouth running ahead of my brain. I meant no offense, truly. I can’t deny that I am incredibly curious about your magic,” she brightened. “It seems utterly fascinating, and I’m fairly certain that you were able to heal yourself with it at one point. I just,” she squirmed a bit. “I’m sorry, Feyre. If you don’t want me to pry, I won’t. I promise.”

There was a moment of silence before Feyre smiled gently and took her hand, gently squeezing it. “Perhaps soon, I think. I would be glad to talk with you about it. For now, let’s just say I serve a higher power, as you do. I just do it in my own way”

Irene nodded, gently squeezing her friend’s hand back. They let go and continued their walk silently. Ahead of them a bit, Ireena, Halben, and Lev were animatedly talking about something that caused them to pause for laughter every five minutes or so. It was rather nice to see and hear. 

They continued along the road rather peacefully. Irene’s eyes kept trailing over to the mountains, towards dark woods that looked about as uninviting as the ones she and her friends had woken up in. A chill ran down her spine and she shivered. No doubt, that was where Strahd’s castle resided. Thankfully, while the path seemed to bring them somewhat closer, they didn’t seem to be heading in the castle’s direction entirely. They eventually came to a crossroads, with the path extending forward as well as branching off to either side. Maratesh shuddered.

“Straight ahead, let’s go.”

Halben frowned. “What’s down the paths?”

Ireena shivered when she glanced down the right-hand path towards the woods. “That leads to Ravenloft, no doubt.”

Maratesh nodded. “The left leads to somewhere...unpleasant.”

Irene frowned as she glanced towards the left. There were some sprawling hills, with a set of standing stones surrounding an altar. Some way beyond that, was a windmill. “Is that...is that what I think it is?”

Lev frowned. “A windmill? What about it? It’s a windmill, they’re a dime a dozen.”

“Not really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before,” Ireene mentioned.

“The Dursts, that has to be their windmill. Or, used to be, I suppose,” Irene frowned. The weight of the deeds and wills suddenly felt heavier. She honestly didn’t know why she was still carrying them around. They weren’t very useful. The Dursts were dead and the house was destroyed. Lev had rather efficiently taken care of that. “I wonder who owns it now...or is it abandoned?”

“Well, the thingy is still turning. Do they do that on their own?” Halben asked. “It’s not very windy today. Maybe someone lives there now.”

Maratesh shivered. “I don’t know why anyone would. The Vistani avoid that place like the plague. I don’t know why, but it gives me the creeps. Almost as much as the stones.”

Irene’s gaze was drawn back to the stones. They were only a ten-minute jog away. Maybe she could make a quick detour, see what they were about. 

“We should get going,” Maratesh insisted. “There is something wrong with that place and we still have a lot of ground to cover so-”

“Granny!”

The party jumped at Lev’s enthusiastic shout and Irene’s eyes brightened as she saw a familiar figure pushing a cart in their direction. Lev took off toward the elderly, kind lady, an almost manic glee in his face. Granny, hearing the shout, jumped and looked towards the party. She smiled widely as she came closer. 

“Oh! Dearies, it’s you! And you made new friends, I see!” Her eyes seemed to pause on Ireena, and she quickly glanced between the two women before settling on Lev, who was practically glued to the side of her cart. She chuckled. “Can I interest you dears in some more of my pies? I’m so happy that you seem to find joy in them.”

Irene immediately dug into her purse, bringing out at least ten gold pieces. It was all she could do to resist giving her everything for the cart. She very nearly did. “We love them!” She said with a smile, handing Granny the gold. “How many for ten gold?”

“Oh! Oh my!” Granny’s eyes widened and she hugged Irene. “Oh, you sweet things! Let me pack you some delicious pies! Meat? Fruit?

“Yes,” Lev’s eyes were gleaming with almost manic joy. “Some of everything. Oh gods I dream about your pies.”

Granny chuckled and patted him on the head like he was an enthusiastic child. Something in Irene squirmed at that, almost quailed back at the look in Lev’s eyes. She felt a bit cold like someone splashed her with cold water. She frowned a bit even as Granny packed them two bundles of pies, meat, and fruit. She had to admit, she had been close to giving Granny all of their money and had very nearly been right next to Lev, slavering like a dog over the thought of pies. But seeing Lev, and his reaction, made her gut squirm and she didn’t quite know why. She glanced at the others. Maratesh was standing some ways back, holding back a glare. Kcaj was the same as usual. But Ireena, Halben, and Feyre stared at her and Lev with some concern and just a bit of embarrassed disgust.

“Here you are, dears!” Granny handed Irene and Lev a pack of pies. “Such sweethearts, you are!” she gave their cheeks a kiss. “I’m so glad I ran into you! What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“We are on our way to Vallaki, miss,” Kcaj said. “We are seeking to explore more of this land since we seem to be trapped here.”

“Vallaki? Vallaki is a fine town. Safe, too. The walls have kept the city safe for many years now, I believe,” Granny nodded. “Supposedly, I haven’t been there, myself.”

“Why not?” Feyre asked. “Surely you would find more customers there.”

“Well,” Granny shrugged. “Truth be told, the people there can be a bit suspicious. They’re not overly fond of people who don’t live there. I’m not permitted to sell there, so I don’t really go there since there is no profit. I don’t have much time to visit, even if they would let me. Making pies and selling them is my life, really.”

Irene frowned. “Do they not let people in?”

“I’m sure they will let you in! Not to worry!” Granny patted her arm. “But for whatever reason, they aren’t terribly fond of me. A shame, really. I was looking to adopt.”

“Adopt?” 

Granny nodded. “Oh yes. You see, it’s just me and my two daughters,” she gestured back towards the windmill. “And the work can be hard, sometimes. I often thought about adopting from the Vallaki orphanage. Give those children a nice family, teach them a trade. Alas, they keep their business local and don’t seem keen to adopt to nonresidents like me.”

“That is a shame,” Ireena agreed. “Though, at least in Vallaki, they’re safe. Doesn’t it get dangerous out here?”

Granny chuckled. “Oh, we don’t worry too much. Nothing bothers us. We’re just making pies. Our family has been here for years and nothing has bothered us yet.”

“Granny, do you know anything about the Durst family?” Irene piped up. “They used to own this windmill, I think.”

Granny shook her head. “Can’t say that I have, sweetie. We’ve owned this little old thing for generations. If someone owned it before, it’s been a very long time since they did.”

“Ah...that’s what I thought,” Irene sighed a bit.

“Anyway,” Maratesh interrupted his voice firm. “We should get going if we want to get to Vallaki before nightfall.”

“Oh, yes I mustn't keep you! I must be off myself. Don’t worry about this old woman, I’ve traveled these roads before!” Granny smiled before heading back to her cart. “Enjoy the pies, my dears! Until next time!”

The party watched Granny head into the woods, walking confidently and without fear. Once she was out of sight, Maratesh snorted, frost forming around his nostrils. “Finally. Let’s go. My scales are crawling,” he growled and stomped off towards Vallaki. 

“Indeed. I believe I now better understand the feeling of one’s skin crawling,” Kcaj said, turning to follow the Dragonborn. Halben shivered and shook himself out, practically running in their direction. The others made similar sounds of agreement, except Lev who was already munching on a pie as he walked. Irene felt her stomach churn a bit and she quickly packed away the pie bundle Granny had given her, appetite gone. Something about the entire encounter set her on edge.

She jolted slightly when at one point she felt Maratesh fall beside her. She looked up at the large Dragonborn. He looked uneasy and kept glancing at her pack. 

“Look, I’m not one to tell you what to do. But I should tell you, she was lying.”

Irene frowned. “Huh? Lying? About what?”

“Not knowing the Dursts, whoever they are. When you brought them up, she lied about not knowing them. She was nervous too. I could smell it. Just so you know, okay?” Maratesh nodded at her and headed back towards the front of the party.

Irene watched him, her unease growing. Why would Granny lie about the Dursts? Why would she be nervous? What was going on? She was just a sweet old woman selling pies. In Barovia. Who lived with her two daughters in the middle of nowhere. Who walked the land without fear of the beasts. 

Maybe she shouldn’t eat the pies anymore.


	18. Welcome to Vallaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party finally makes it to Vallaki and, hopefully, safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this done! Life has been exhausting these last couple of months. Moving is hard.

Kcaj had decided at some point during their walk that the atmosphere needed some cheering up, so he decided to regale the group with stories about his homeland, with the empire that had created him. It was quite impressive, even for someone who had heard of the great empire of giants before. Reading about it in textbooks and hearing it from a being who had lived during those times was something else. 

Centuries before the smaller races had come to their world, to Legaius, the lands had been ruled by a massive empire of giants. Storm or Cloud giants, if she recalled correctly, had been the primary ruling class. The most intelligent, adept with magic, and the strongest. Their empire had created wonders of architecture, with a plethora of magical devices that still worked to this day even if their use and meaning had long since been lost. 

Among their creations had been a vast amount of Warforged, automatons capable of a great many things. The giants had crafted them for many uses, granting them many abilities. Kcaj’s particular function, to the amusement of the general group, had been essentially that of a child’s toy. He was meant to be a guardian and a playmate, responsible for the well-being and safety of his charges. In a lot of ways, he was akin to a nanny to many of the children. There had been others of his make and model, that of a Fighter class. According to Kcaj, there had been numerous other models that could wield magic and possessed skills similar to that of Barbarians and Rangers. In addition, no model was stagnant or incapable of learning. A well-built unit could potentially learn skills to surpass what they had originally been built with, for the entertainment and benefit of their charges.

The crafting of such being had been lost for a long time after the fall of the empire. It was only in the most recent centuries that the secrets to their creation had been recovered and duplicated. Not that it was an easy thing to achieve and Warforged were not a common sight outside of the military. Sometimes, they were commissioned by the wealthy as bodyguards or the like. But they were not simply golems. They were intelligent, sentient beings with the willingness to learn, improve, and protect others. But none of them had the unique style of Kcaj. The style of the newer models tended to reflect modern times. In more ways than one, Kcaj was a relic of days long past.

Nevertheless, Kcaj had dedicated himself to adapting to the modern era. To help with that, after they had met he had declared himself Irene’s friend and protector, taking it upon himself to teach her his native language and helping her in her endeavors. In a way, Irene had become his new charge, much like the giant children he had cared for. That comparison had gotten a laugh from the others.

“Admittedly, though at times it has been a...trying endeavor, Irene had proven herself to be a most adept student. She has taken to my language lessons most enthusiastically. Granted, she is not quite like my former charges. There are...unique challenges to be overcome. But I welcome it.”

Halben chuckled and looked towards Irene. “So, Kcaj is essentially your nanny and bodyguard?”

Irene couldn’t help but laugh as Kcaj shook his head. “While I would protect her with my life, I recognize that she is technically considered an adult human who can make her own decisions. However, I do give my advice when asked for. I have taken it upon myself to see that she is happy and safe. She is quite dear to me.”

Irene smiled at Kcaj. “As you are to me, my friend. I am lucky to have met you.”

A few hours later a walled city came into view and they picked up the pace. It was certainly an improvement over Barovia Village. It had a wall, for one thing. Thick, stout tree logs were sturdy and tight tightly together. The top of the wall as far as they could see was lined with spikes and it didn’t look as though there any handholds in the wood anyway. It certainly looked more defensible than the village.

Ireena almost fell over at the sight of it. “Vallaki…”

Lev frowned a bit. “It looks safe, but would those walls keep vampires out?”

“They must be doing something right,” Ireena insisted. “There hasn’t been an attack or anything in at least a hundred years. Maybe the ground is consecrated or something?”

The party turned to look at Irene, who shrugged. “It could be. I mean, I won’t really be able to tell unless we’re actually inside the city. Maybe. More experienced clerics and paladins mostly possess those skills.”

“I think we’ll take it,” Maratesh chuckled. “Though, if anyone’s interested, there is another Vistani camp about half a day away from here,” he pointed east of the city. “About that way. But let’s head inside.”

They headed to the gates, which were manned by several men in armor and wielding spears. One stepped forward, looking bored and ready to deliver what was most likely a well-rehearsed speech, and choked, his eyes going wide. The others gasped and stepped back, hands clutching their weapons tightly. Irene sighed as their gazes were locked in Kcaj, who simply went still. As per usual, he kept his hands away from his weapon. Irene stepped forward, holding her quarterstaff to one side.

“Good afternoon. We’re travelers looking for a place to stay within safe walls. We aren’t looking for any trouble, we assure you.”

One of the men gulped and pointed a shaking hand at Kcaj. “Wh-What is that thing?”

“He is my companion. He is a skilled warrior but he will harm no one within the city. You have my word as a Cleric,” she omitted her Goddess’ name, she had no idea if Mystra was worshipped in this land, and in any case, being a Cleric was often more than enough for people to trust her. In this case, it seemed to be about the same. The men were slowly calming, stepping back and away from the party. One of the men cleared his throat.

“We will hold you to that, Lady Cleric. See to it that this...thing, causes no fuss, and you’ll be welcome within Vallaki.”

Irene bowed her head to them. “Thank you, fine sirs. I promise you, none of us with to cause any harm or ruckus. We are simply seeking safety.”

The man nodded. “If I were you, I’d head toward the Blue Water in for lodgings. The Martikovs run one of the best places in town. Good bed and food for a good price.”

Feyre smiled. “We will take your advice then. Thank you, gentlemen. You do your duties well.”

The guards were still nervous as they motioned for them to enter, eyeing Kcaj and Maratesh warily. Lev gave a low chuckle once they were in and on a street. “I take it you’re used to that? That little speech sounded rehearsed.”

Kcaj nodded. “Indeed. I am used to the remarks and caution my presence inspires. I have learned to not take it personally, as Lady Irene often says.”

Irene chuckled. “By this point, I could say that in my sleep. But yes, we are used to it.”

“Are there not many like you, Kcaj? Where you’re from?” Ireena asked.

“None like my particular model, not anymore,” Kcaj shook his head. “While other Warforged do exist, my particular make and model is no longer in production. Has not been for centuries at least, I believe.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Do not worry yourself, Lady Ireena. I do not find it much of a concern now that I have a purpose once again. Now, shall we proceed to the inn the guard mentioned? Which way do we go?”

“More to the point, what do we do next?” Lev turned to Ireena, who fidgeted a bit. “What’s the next step in the plan?”

“I…” Ireena sighed. “Look, I’ll be honest. Ismark and I...made up the plan on the fly. We honestly don’t know much about this town except that it hasn’t had any sightings of HIM, in over a century. We honestly didn’t know if I’d ever make it here.”

“So, no plan then,” Irene winced. “Oh dear...okay...um…”

“Perhaps we can figure that out as we go, then?” Kcaj asked. “It may be best to sit and plan out what to do next. We also need to gather information for...our other task,” he nodded. “Perhaps we should head to this Blue Water Inn and proceed from there, yes?”

They had to stop a citizen to ask for directions, who quickly gave them directions and rushed off, looking more stressed and frantic than frightened. Indeed, as they walked they found that many people were rushing about. There was no sense of alarm or panic but just rushed urgency. Decorations were being torn down and put up and on several posts and walls were flyers for a festival.

“Wonder what this is all about?” Halben muttered as he pulled down a flyer. “‘Festival of the Hanged Wolf’? The hell?”

Maratesh shrugged. “Never heard of it. Maybe it’s a Vallaki thing?” he turned to a nearby citizen, who was walking past holding what looked like a fake wolf’s head. The fur was sticking out everywhere and it looked crudely made. “Hey, what’s this whole festival thing for? Did we miss it?”

The man stared at Maratesh, not at all alarmed by the Dragonborn’s appearance. In fact, he looked more put out than any cat Irene had ever seen. And that was quite a feat for a human man. He gave a long-suffering sigh.

“The Festival of the Hanged Wolf is but one of many ways our beloved and mighty baron keeps high the morale of our great city. Such high spirits and great shows of our strength have kept fair Vallaki safe for many years against the tyranny and darkness of the devil Strahd. Only by banding together as one untied city can we stand against such evil. They are mandatory only because our baron does not wish us to fall into despair and into the claws of evil.”

Irene was speechless. “I...what?”

Lev raised an eyebrow. “So...you throw festivals, and the pure happiness keeps away Strahd and his hoard of the undead? Am I hearing this right?”

The man sighed. “It is by the strength and unity of our great city under the guidance of Baron Vallakovich that we are kept strong and safe against the forces of evil.”

Irene shuddered. The man’s voice was so bored and resigned, it honestly reminded her a little too much of her childhood home. “You can’t be serious.”

Ireena spoke a bit hesitantly. “Well...rumors say Strahd hasn’t been seen in Vallaki for at least a hundred years, so…”

“Yes, because it’s just so damn happy and cheerful here,” Lev rolled his eyes. “Just listen to this man. He’s the very epitome of joy and cheer.”

“Look,” the man hissed, his eyes narrowing. “You’re obviously not from here. You don’t want to make trouble in this city. So don’t. You’d be better of leaving before you get someone in trouble.” he then quickly walked away from the group.

Lev sighed. “First gloomy Barovia Village, now Paranoid Vallaki. This is just the happiest realm ever, isn’t it?”

“I think the man has a point,” Kcaj interjected. “We are here to find safety for Lady Ireena and form a plan for our next move. We must gather information. We should head to the Blue Water Inn and discuss our next steps there. It would be in our best interest to not cause trouble. What is it that you say, Lady Irene? About wave-making?”

“We wouldn’t to make waves here,” Irene nodded in agreement. “Kcaj is right. We should head for the inn and keep low profiles. The last thing we want is to be jailed or kicked out. Then where would Ireena be?”

Ireena sighed with relief. “Thank you. Let’s go. I’m actually getting a little hungry.”

Maratesh grumbled a bit as they walked. “My clan typically avoids Vallaki, not that they welcome Vistani much anyway. But I think I see why we avoided it. You can practically feel how stifling it is in this place. The forced cheer from these festivals? And look,” Maratesh pointed to a few people running around putting up fliers and starting new decorations. “I think they’re having another one. You can tell these people are just done with this whole thing.”

“It’s suffocating. This forced cheer, making everyone put on a smiling face and go along with whatever they’re ordered to. You’re right, the tension is here is so thick. It’s a wonder no one has snapped already. This baron must keep tight control over the people if no one has risen up yet.”

“That’s what I hear, unfortunately,” Maratesh shrugged. “The man’s supposedly paranoid. Hans says that when he is granted entry, there are so many strict regulations that he has to follow. He’s only even allowed in because he has such a variety of items and makes such good business that the baron allows him in. From what Hans has told us, breaking the rules here is not a good idea, though he hasn’t told us about what the consequences are. He does his best to keep himself out of trouble.”

Irene nodded. “I can’t blame him for that. If it’ll keep you in business, why rock the boat?” it had kept her somewhat sane when she was younger. “Especially if you can’t change things. No point in wasting your energy when it can be better spent elsewhere.”

Maratesh nodded. “LIkewise with us, I think. We apparently have much bigger things to worry about now. Gotta say, didn’t think I’d ever get drawn into a plot to try and kill the Devil of Barovia.”

Irene chuckled. “Didn’t think I would get drawn into a completely different plane, so I know how you feel. I’ve never even met the man, but I don’t think I’ll shed any tears over his death. Which should honestly disturb me. I’m on a quest to kill a man I’ve never even met because other people have told me that he’s a monster. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she stammered a bit much to Maratesh’s amusement. “I’ve seen how he warps people and corrupts them. I’ve seen the terror he instills in people. I’m not saying I won’t do my best to kill the bastard. I’m just…”

“Pointing out how odd and sudden it all seems to be? Can’t blame you there.”

Irene nodded. “This has definitely been a strange journey so far.”

The citizens of Vallaki went about their day as the party made their way towards the town center. Unlike those of Barovia Village, there was far less despair and hopelessness. Instead, there was an undercurrent of dread, of paranoia. The people moved with purpose, hurrying and rushing. It was less terrified of monsters coming from the dark to devour them and more afraid of saying the wrong thing or getting caught doing something wrong. It was a more mundane fear, one Irene was a little more familiar with.

They emerged in the town square sometime later. There wasn’t much of a crowd, more people just going about their business the fastest way they could. They were also doing their very best to avoid looking in the center of town, the sight of which made the party stop and stare. In the center of the town sat a stage, which looked like it had been taken apart and put back together numerous times. Off to one side of the stage were several stocks, all of which were filled. Each individual had been donned with a poorly-made horse’s head and had signs hanging around their necks. The signs declared them all to be willing followers of evil, sowers of discord and panic. There were a few signs of rotten fruit around them, but it was clear that the majority of people avoided them. They were all filthy and unwashed, making it clear they had been in the stocks for some time. Irene felt her fury rise as she noticed two smaller bodies in the stocks towards the ends, the pathetic sounds of sniffling coming from inside the heads. 

“Are. Those. Children?” she managed to bite out, grasping her staff in a white-knuckled grip.

“Uh oh…” 

She had barely heard Maratesh’s words before she stormed off to what looked to be the nearest city guard. The poor fool was standing not far away from the prisoners and looked rather terrified by Irene’s fury-filled face as she came barreling towards him.

“YOU! What in the name of the gods is the meaning of this!?” Irene shouted. 

The guard stammered, wide-eyed and stumbling back a step. His eyes grew wider as the rest of the party quickly approached and he looked around for help. “I-you see, uh…”

“These are CHILDREN!” Irene gestured angrily to the people in the stocks. “What is WRONG with you people!? These poor souls have obviously been here for DAYS! ARE YOU HEARTLESS!?”

“Irene-” Maratesh cursed and grasped her shoulder trying to pull her back. “We don’t want to cause a scene.”

Kcaj’s grip tightened on his sword as he noticed two other guards quickly speak to each other and rush off. “Indeed. We are not here to cause trouble, but good sir,” he turned to the stammering guard. “Like my companion, I find the treatment of these people alarming, especially the children. I do not know what crimes they have committed, but surely this is far too harsh a punishment.”

“Th-They...they h-have been f-found guilty of tr-trying to…” the man tried weakly, only to be cut off by Irene. 

“Probably some asinine charge! These are children! CHILDREN!”

Ireena grabbed her arm and hissed at her. “Irene! More guards are coming! Stop!”

“I think they also got the guard captain, sounds like,” Maratesh grumbled as the guard collapsed with relief. “Great.”

“Well then let him come! I want to talk to this so-called ‘Guard Captain!’” Irene shouted. “Let me hear what he has to say for himself!”

“Irene!” Ireena snapped. “Spending time in prison or getting kicked out is not what I would call safe, don’t you think!?”

Irene opened her mouth to shout when Ireena’s words broke through her anger. She stammered, her face red and her heart plummeted as the sound of clanging metal approached. “Oh...shit.”

“Now, no need for alarm,” Kcaj said calmly, turning to face the oncoming small group of soldiers. “We can talk about this reasonably with the guard captain. I am sure that if we explain ourselves, he will understand and we can come to an arrangement.”

Lev grumbled, not liking the sight of so many guards, especially not the captain, who looked particularly incensed. “I don’t like our odds...shit.”

Irene winced and shivered. “I got us into this, I’ll get you out, at least,” she made her way up beside Kcaj towards the front of the party, facing the group of soldiers. Their leader, presumably the captain, made Irene more than a little nervous. The man was enormous, easily a little over six feet, and decked out in heavy armor. He had a bald head and a furious expression, and the townspeople fled as he approached. In his right arm was an enormous ax, easily as tall as the man himself and no doubt twice as heavy. But he carried it easily, no doubt due to his huge muscles and that his right arm had been replaced at one point with something demonic, with huge black claws and red as blood. Irene wanted to kick herself right now.

The man stopped in front of the party, looking over them all with a sneer and a glare. His deep voice rumbled. “So, you the lot who’s making trouble in my city,” He grinned, baring his teeth like a wild animal. His dark eyes gleamed with dark intent. “We don’t like trouble here in Vallaki. This is a peaceful place, a city free of evil. We can’t have you ruining that.”

“My good sir, are you perchance the guard captain?” Kcaj politely asked. “If so, I assure you that we do not mean to cause a ruckus. My companion was overcome with emotion, tis true. But I assure you that we have no ill intent towards your city.”

“That so, metal man?” The man growled. “Even so, can’t afford to have outsiders like you upsetting people. Makes for bad vibes, could give people bad ideas. We have strict laws here.”

Something in Irene flared up again and before she could stop herself, she stepped around Kcaj. “No law can justify putting children in stocks for days! What kind of place is this that justifies that!?”

The man turned to her, grinning wolfishly. The second his eyes fell on Irene, though, his expression fell completely. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. His right arm went slack and the head of his ax hit the ground with a loud thunk. He stammered and choked, seemingly at a loss for words.

“You...It’s you!”


	19. Creepy Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ireena's scary brother and a creepy baron. What could go wrong?

“I...What?” Irene blinked, clearly not expecting the reaction she had received. She glanced at her companions, who seemed just as baffled by the guard captain’s reaction. The man was gaping and stammering, his eyes locked on Irene.

“It’s you...gods, it’s really you...after all this time? Where...where…”

The guards that had accompanied the man seemed astonished by their captain’s reaction to Irene. They were gobsmacked, staring at him as if he had lost his mind. One or two glared suspiciously at Irene as if she had done something to him aside from confronting him. Kcaj made a sound like a cough.

“I beg your pardon sir, but may I ask how you know our companion? You seem to recognize her?”

The man didn’t look at Kcaj or even acknowledge that he had spoken. He continued to stare at Irene almost reverently. It made her more than a little uncomfortable. “Gods, it’s been so long. I thought I’d never see you again. But you’re here! Actually here!” he stepped forward, prompting Irene to move back.

“I’ve never met you before. How do you think you know me?”

The man drew back as if struck. “How-how do you not know me? I’m your brother! Izek!”

Irene gaped. “Brother? You-but-what!”

“But I thought Ismark was your brother, Ireena,” Halben said, turning to the dumbstruck woman. She was staring at the captain with a slightly dazed expression. “So you have two brothers?”

If it was possible, the captain looked even more stunned. His head snapped back and forth between the two women, gaping. “T-Two of you!? How-what!”

“Believe me, we’re asking that too,” Lev muttered, eyeing the guards behind the captain. 

One of the guardsmen coughed and inched up to the captain, to Izek, his voice wavering. “Um...sir…um...these people were...um...causing a disruption...and...um,” 

Izek shook his head a bit, seeming to come back to himself a bit, though his eyes never left Irene and Ireena. “Right...the disturbance...but you...Ireena, where have you been, all this time? I thought, I thought you were gone forever. Where have you been? Don’t you recognize me?”

Irene had backed up to stand beside Ireena and glanced at the shell-shocked woman. She spoke low, gently touching her arm. “Ireena?”

“I-I don’t, I don’t know...I...I…” Ireena shook her head. “I mean, maybe? I-I just don’t-” she grasped at her head. “M-Maybe?”

“Ireena?” Izek stepped forward, his gaze on both women. “Ireena?”

“Sir Izek,” Kcaj casually stepped in front of the man. “There is still the matter of these prisoners. Again, we wished not to cause a ruckus and will be more than happy to have a civilized discussion regarding these prisoners.”

Izek’s gaze darted to Kcaj and his face darkened. “These people are being rightfully punished for trying to undermine the baron’s efforts to protect this city from the darkness. If you have a problem with that…” he began to growl and tighten his grip on his ax. The men behind him inched back, their faces pale.

Quickly, Feyre stepped forward. “Good captain, then perhaps may we speak with the baron? We are outsiders and I am afraid that we are still finding our way in this land. If it is permissible, we could speak with him and he may present his side of this? Perhaps we have something to learn.”

Izek growled and his eyes narrowed, but his gaze went back to Irene and Ireena and he seemed to relax. “Yes, that is acceptable. You will come to me and speak with the baron. He can enlighten you on how things work here in Vallaki,” he smiled. “I would like a chance to speak to you more, Ireena,” he then nodded and turned, barking orders at the guards behind him. The men scattered instantly and Izek began to stride off. After a moment of hesitation, the group began to follow him.

“This should be interesting,” Maratesh grumbled. “Wasn’t expecting this weirdness today.”

“No kidding,” Lev replied, keeping his voice low. Izek kept glancing back to make sure they were following. He noticed that each time, his eyes only went to the two women. “The mysterious twin thing is at least keeping us from being jailed, so I am all for that.”

“Yeah...I guess…” Irene muttered as she glanced at Ireena. The young woman was staring down at the ground as they walked, her brows furrowed and her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Ireena? Are you...alright?”

“I...I think so…” she replied softly. “I...I think I remember a brother. Maybe?” she kept her voice low, glancing up now and again at the front of the group, towards the towering Izek. “It’s all...fuzzy and...it’s like a dream? I think? But he didn’t have that arm, I know that much.”

Irene nodded, shivering as Izek’s gaze landed on them again. “Understandable. That arm doesn’t look natural. As for the rest...who knows? We may get the chance to speak to him more. Maybe he is your brother.”

“I...would you want him as your brother?”

Irene bit her lip, looking up at Izek. He had an unsettling grin as he stared at them and the look in his eyes...she had always fantasized about having a sibling somewhere, maybe waiting for her or even actively looking for her. But she had always imagined them as brave, strong, and kind. She didn’t know Izek, knew nothing but that he was the guard captain of Vallaki and enforced laws that seemed mad. But something about him unsettled her to her core. She glanced around them, at the people watching the small procession. Their eyes were almost entirely on Izek, terrified. “I...can’t say I would, no.”

Ireena shivered and the group was silent as they followed Izek to the baron’s manor. It was a large building, as expected, with some of the town guards patrolling the property. They stood to attention at the first sight of Izek, not daring to move a muscle as he walked past. He ignored them, and once they were sure he wouldn’t see them they collapsed with relief and scampered off. Lev and Halben were both grumbling under their breath and Halben was palming a dagger. 

Izek led them inside without hesitation, barking orders at a nearby maid to let the baron know he was there. The woman tripped over herself as she nodded and frantically ran down a hallway, abandoning her work in the foyer. Izek chuckled to himself and glanced over what the maid had been constructing. There were piles of straw scattered throughout the room and in the center was what looked to be a half-completed sun. “Hm, not bad. Better be completed in time.”

“And what is this to be for, Captain Izek?” Kcaj asked, his head tilted. “I am unsure of what it is supposed to be.”

“The Festival of the Burning Sun. It’s the next festival, just a few days away. Just one of the many ways our baron keeps this city safe from the evils that haunt Barovia,” he gestured with his head down the hall the maid had run down. “Come, the baron is this way. He will be able to enlighten you as to his great work.”

“I can hardly wait,” Lev muttered, eyeing the wicker sun with disdain. “There is such a thing as too many festivals, it seems.”

Izek led them deeper into the manor, to a large room with an enormous desk and various knick-knacks. Sitting at the desk was an average-sized man, with thinning blond hair and somewhat sallow skin. Irene would have guessed him to be in his forties if she was being generous. He wore fine clothes that marked him as a man of importance, with the usual type of jewelry such men tended to adorn. Irene noted to herself that at least the people didn’t seem to be starving or lacking in the basics for survival. One less reason to despise the man. 

Izek saluted and gave a deep bow as they entered, standing in the center of the room. “My baron, I have brought these outsiders to you so that they may better understand what you do for us all in Vallaki.”

The baron looked up from his paperwork and smiled. “Ah! Izek, my good man! And outsiders! It’s been a while since we’ve seen your ilk here! Welcome to Vallaki! The haven of Barovia!” he stood and gestured with his open arms. “I am Baron Vargas Vallakovich! Welcome to my fair city!”

“Good baron,” Kcaj nodded. “I am glad that you are willing to speak with us. We wish to discuss-”

“Of course, no doubt you have been drawn to Vallaki for all its stories of safety!” Vargas grinned and walked out from behind his desk. “And they are all true! This city has been protected from the forces of darkness for well over a century! It’s quite astonishing! Of course,” he gave them a falsely humble expression that made Irene’s blood start to boil. “I can’t take all of the credit. I am merely continuing their great work.”

“Then perhaps, good baron, you can explain the reason why the people in the square are being treated as they are? Surely, good sir, that is too harsh a punishment for whatever crimes they have committed.”

Vargas frowned in confusion until Izek leaned over to whisper something in his ear. “Ah, those people,” Vargas gave a sneer of disgust, then straightened. “I pity you, outsider, but I shall grace you with understanding. Though it seems harsh, these punishments are necessary. Those people attempted to bring down the morale of our city and disrupt our good works.”

Maratesh frowned. “They...what? And how exactly did they do that?”

“They dared to try and disrupt our latest festival, of course!” Vargas puffed up his chest. “These festivals are meant to unite the people, to keep morale at an all-time high, and make sure the forces of darkness are kept at bay! They are meant to make sure our people do not fall into despair and the vile clutches of the Devil! These criminals dared to try to disrupt that! And during my grand, inspiring speech! They’re servants of evil and must be treated as-!”

“What, did those children dare to be children in your presence?”

Vargas halted his rant and turned to glare at Irene. She was clutching her staff with a white-knuckled grip. “Did they laugh while you spoke? Did they dare to play and be children? To express that inane happiness you’re so obsessed with spreading?”

Vargas’ eyes narrowed. “Why you-”

“They’re children! They don’t deserve that insane punishment for being children!”

“Irene!” Ireena grabbed her arm and pulled her back, looking afraid. “Irene, please stop already!” she hissed in the other woman’s ear.

“How dare you,” Vargas glowered. “Interlopers, outsiders! I should have you thrown out with nothing but the clothes on your back! Maybe I will after a few nights in the stocks!”

“My lord baron, please,” Izek stepped forward, his head bowed. “They’re outsiders, they just don’t understand. Please, sir, allow them to stay and see the good you are doing for this town. I’m sure that if they just have the chance to see what you do for the people, they will come to their senses.”

Vargas glared at Izek and, to Irene’s shock, the bigger man seemed to almost cower before him. He snorted, then eyed Irene with distaste. His eyes flickered to Ireena, and he frowned, glancing between the two with an odd look. “Hmph, perhaps,” he turned and strode back to his desk. “I am gracious, I will allow you the chance to witness my good works. You are permitted to remain, for now.”

Izek smiled in relief. “Thank you, baron. You are most kind and generous.”

“Oh, I know,” the baron replied in a way that made Irene grit her teeth. “But Izek,” he turned and smiled sickeningly at him. “As captain of my guard, it is your sacred duty to keep our fair city safe. Yes?”

Izek blinked. “Well, of course, my baron. I am devoted to you and your great cause.”

“Then, should these outsiders cause more trouble, I expect you to deal with them,” he turned and gave Irene a grin. “With lethal force, if it is required.”

There was a pause before Izek responded, his voice low. “Of course, my baron.”

“We thank you for allowing us to remain, good baron,” Kcaj bowed. “I assure you, we will not make more trouble while we are here.”

“Indeed,” Feyre nodded. “We wish for no trouble while we are here.”

“Then it is in your best interests to keep your friends in line lest something, unpleasant, befall them,” Vargas grinned. “Now, off with you lot. I have important work to do.”

Lev grinned and bounded up to the baron, eagerly taking his arm to shake with a wide smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you, good sir. I look forward to seeing how your good works keep Vallaki safe.”

“Er, yes, I’m sure,” Vargas gave a small, forced, smile and shook Lev off. “Now, get out.”

Irene turned on her heel before she could say something else and stomped down the hall, Ireena close behind her. She noted briefly that no servants made themselves visible as Izek followed the party. Once they were outside of the manor she spun around and confronted Izek. “How can you serve that vile man!?”

Izek frowned. “I know it may seem hard to understand, but the baron does good work here. He keeps this city safe and-”

“Safe!? With inane festivals and by putting children in stocks!?” Irene shouted. “Don’t you see it!? The people are terrified! Of him, and you! How can you work for someone like that!?”

Izek grinned. “Oh, I don’t mind the fear so much. But sister,” his frown returned. “You shouldn’t say such things. The baron is a great man who is protecting this city from evil.”

“By putting innocent people in stocks, of yes,” Irene spat. “He’s so gracious.”

“Ireena-”

“I’m not Ireena!” Irene grabbed at her hair. “You-!”

“Stop!” Ireena stood in front of Irene, glaring at her. “Just. Shut. Up. Izek,” she half-turned to the giant man. “Look, I…”

“Ireena, I think you shouldn’t be around these people,” Izek glared at the rest of the party as they gathered around the two women. “They’re filling your head with dangerous thoughts. You’re here now, you should stay with me. I can keep you safe and out of trouble.”

“Oh, like hell is that happening,” Halben muttered.

Irene’s eyes narrowed and she moved to speak when Ireena cut her off with a harsh glare. She turned back to Izek. “Izek, brother, I...I need time. I admit, I barely remember you, I was so young. I need time. I’ll be in the inn, with my friends. If you want to talk, I would like that.”

“We mean to make sure she will be safe within these walls, captain,” Kcaj said. “It was the wish of the brother she was raised with, that we bring her to safety.”

Izek turned on Kcaj with a snarl. “I am her brother! She is safe with me! If you’re trying to keep her from me,” he snarled and raised his ax.

“Izek, please!” Ireena said, stepping forward. “Please, I, I’m tired and so confused. Please, just let me have a little time and start to get to know my brother again. Please? We can talk tomorrow, maybe? We can talk and get to know one another better. Please?”

Izek glared at her for a moment, then sighed and nodded. “Tomorrow, then. Now, I have work to do. Don’t you dare drag my sister into your trouble,” he snarled at the others before stomping away. 

There was a tense moment, then Lev tossed a purple coin purse into the air and caught it. “Drinks are on the baron. To the Blue Water Inn?” he said, grinning widely.

Halben burst into laughter. “Nice one! I saw it when you shook his hand. Smooth work!”

Lev grinned wider and bowed. “I aim to please.”

Ireena spun and glared at Irene. “Are you trying to get me killed!?”

“Ireena, I am sure that she didn’t mean to get us in trouble,” Feyre gently grasped her arm. “It was a shocking situation.”

“She almost got us kicked out! This is the one place in Barovia where I MIGHT be safe from,” Ireena jerked her head. “And she almost got us banned!” she glared at the wincing Irene. “So, I might be effectively stalked by two creeps now! Thanks for that, oh stalwart protector!”

Maratesh pushed his way between the two women. “Hey, easy! What’s done is done. We have coin, let’s get us some rooms and food. Let’s save the blame game for another time, yeah?” He raised an eye ridge. 

“Hmph. Fine.” Ireena snapped before storming around Irene and down the road. Maratesh followed, gently patting Irene’s arm as he went, making sure to keep close to the other young woman.

“...I really stepped in it,” Irene sighed. “Great. Just, great.”

Lev shrugged. “Could have been worse,” he smiled at her. “Let’s go get some food.”

“Indeed, Lady Irene. Now is not the time to fret. We should seek rest and nourishment,” Kcaj nodded and the rest of them headed down the road towards the Blue Water Inn.


End file.
